Twenty Letters
by rosebud1000
Summary: The summer after the war, Harry is living at Grimmauld Place. As he's wandering around one day, he spots an odd-looking package, the size of his trunk. In it, he finds letters. Each one addressed to him, and each from the most unlikely of people. (Canon pairing mentioned, though this is not a romance).
1. The Letters

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling, who I am not.**

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Harry picked up the package, curious. It wasn't small, about the size of a his trunk, but lightweight, at least for the volume. The package had been wrapped in paper, and seemed as though a message may have once been written on it, but it had faded and been smeared by tears. Should he open it? Surely, nothing harmful could come into Grimmauld Place, especially after all the protective spells to keep out interviewers. He opened it up tentatively. He could almost hear Hermione telling him to check it for jinxes, but he didn't care. A small part of him felt like he had waited his entire life to open it, and he needed to know what was inside.

He finished opening the package, and out fell… letters. So many letters. And each with a date on it. He picked up one of the letters and read the date: July 31, 1990. Not too long ago. Enough time for it to have been left here, though Sirius would have been in Azkaban then. He picked up another envelope. December 25, 1998. That wasn't possible. It was the summer of 1998 right now. How could it have been written then? He sifted through the letters. 1991, 1994, 1992, 1997. The dates were all over the place. Then it occurred to him. The dates where when the letters had been meant to be read. He picked up the paper wrapping, squinting to decipher the note.

 _Sirius,_

 _Give these to Harry on the dates written._

The letters were for him. Sirius was supposed to have given them to him, as his guardian. He began to sort through the letters, organizing them in the order to be read. Then, he picked up the top envelope, dated July 31, 1989, and read.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Happy Birthday! You're already nine! Sorry we didn't write you sooner, but we felt it would be best to wait until you were older. You see, you wouldn't be reading this if we were alive. So that must mean we're dead. Harry, we love you. We have no doubt that you'll grow to be a strong man. But it never hurts to hear a few baby stories. We thought that should be your present. One baby story for your birthday, and a letter for Christmas. You'll get the letters until your 18th Christmas, so 20 letters in total. Here's you first present:_

 _When you were young, you did a lot of accidental magic. All the time. Before we went into hiding, we could hardly go anywhere in the Muggle world for fear of your magic being noticed. The first time you did magic near Muggles caused near chaos. We were at a park, and you were strapped to my back. We had just bought the contraption; it was something we had seen several Muggles with, and I wanted to try it._

 _So here we were, trying to take a walk in the park. You were reaching up and grabbing leaves as we went, laughing when they slipped from your hands. You grabbed onto one tree branch so hard that you were lifted out of the back carrier. It took us a moment to realize that you were controlling the branch, and having it swing you back and forth. People were starting to stare, and while we would have just summoned you out of the tree, there were Muggles there! Luckily, another wizard was at the park, helped us get you down, and sent a message to the Ministry. The hard part was keeping the Muggles there so they could be obliviated before they left. To make matters worse, you kept floating into the air if I didn't keep a tight grip on you._

 _Love, Mum & Dad_

 _P.S. Mum wrote this, but I helped. -Dad_

Harry stared at the letter. His parents had written all of these - for him. Sirius was supposed to have given these to him. He wondered why his parents had written them. They had trusted Pettigrew, though he guessed that his dad had known how easily he could be pressured into something. But, if they thought that was a possibility, then why would they think that he could survive and not them? It didn't make any sense, Dumbledore had never said that his mother knew what she was doing, much less planned it…

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 **Thanks for reading! Please review! I'll try to update soon, not sure when. I might not include all the letters in the story, but I'll try to include a lot. Note: This story takes place sometime during the summer after the war.**


	2. Sirius Can Cook

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter still doesn't belong to me, we owe it all to Ms. JKR**

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Harry was itching to read the next letter already. So many letters to read, and so little to read them in. Ah, well. He would manage somehow. He picked up the next letter, eager to see what was inside.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Merry Christmas! I hope you've been enjoying the letters! (Don't open them early!). I also hope that Sirius_ _is feeding you alright. (I've tried his cooking, it's...) If you are in Muggle school (which I highly doubt), don't try to suppress the magic too much. It can actually make it happen more often because of the stress it producing. Interesting, isn't it? Anyhow, merry Christmas!_

 _Love, Mum & Dad_

 _P.S Sirius_ _ **can**_ _cook. -Dad._

Harry couldn't help but laugh. These letters had been written thinking that Sirius would be taking care of Harry. This is what he could have had without blood-bonding. Again, he wondered why these letters had been written. No matter, he could figure that out later. For now, he had things to do.

Why on earth George asked him for stinking scrumpets was beyond him, but these days, no one really questioned George's requests. He went down the stairs, towards a room he had found only recently, but seemed to be a miniature Apothecary. The room itself was not unlike the Hogwarts dungeons: cold and dreary, giving you the feeling you were about to be ambushed. He shuddered a bit as he passed the old fireplace several spiders had made their home in.

Carefully, he scooped the stinking scrumpets back into a bag which, despite the name didn't smell particularly unpleasant. They seemed too large for potion brewing, unless one was to shred, pulverize, or otherwise reduce the size of the crescent-shaped dried fruits - if that's what they were. He made a mental note to asked Hermione about the properties later.

Still holding the bag, he apparated to the Hogsmeade post office, finding himself instantly surrounded by people. He pushed his way inside, and to the front counter.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," the wizard on the other side greeted him. He was wearing a pair of small round glasses positioned at the tip of his nose. He was in no way tall, rather, he seemed slightly short. He had only a ring of white hair left on his head, a small furry patch of hair on his upper lip. and was, with no offense to him, rather large around the middle.

"Hello," he said. "Package to deliver." He waited patiently as the man weighed the bag and scribbled the weight onto a piece of parchment.

"How far?" asked the wizard, adjusting his glasses

"Not sure," admitted Harry.

The wizard wrote this down. "How quick?"

"Fast," responded Harry.

"I'd suggest a male tawny."

"For how much?"

"5 sickles," the man said, his little white mustache moving up and down.

Harry gave him the money, in turn for an owl, which was fluttering its wings restlessly.

"He hasn't been out for a while," the wizard said, observing the bird's behavior.

Harry smiled, giving the tawny the package. "George Weasley," he said. Thankfully, the wizard didn't say anything about this, because surely _Harry Potter_ would be able to deliver a package personally to one of the Weasleys, or had the second oldest one already left for Brazil? That had happened a few weeks ago as was sending a letter to Bill and Fleur, and the witch had not stopped asking questions.

The old wizard released the owl, and Harry left, trying to keep himself unrecognized. He stepped outside the shop, about to apparate away, when a news reporter from the Daily Prophet realized who he was.

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 **Thank you for reading! Again, please review! I'll try to update about once a week, it will depend on how busy I am.**

 **Lera, I'm glad you like my story and want to help me reach a bigger audience. However, I feel that we should wait until the story is finished to further discuss translating. So, I'll get back to you one that, and thank's for reviewing!**

 **Also, thank you to everyone who has Followed/Favorited my story. It really does make a difference.**


	3. First Magic

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all these characters.**

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After being thoroughly questioned, probed, and even threatened by the swarm of reporters, Harry found himself back at Grimmauld place. He took the key out of his pocket, unlocking the front door and stepping inside. Though some wizards thought keys unnecessary, it had been the easiest way to lock and unlock the door while setting up protection charms and preventing _Alohomora_ from working.

Since the Fidelius Charm had been broken, the Muggles could now see the house as well, which proved a slight inconvenience. He had to hide all traces of magic from the exterior of the house, whereas before anything past the gates remained unseen by Muggle eyes. One thing that had boggled Harry's mind was that the Muggles seemed to think they had always been able to see Number 12, Grimmauld Place. No memory charms had been put into place, as far as Harry could tell, and not a single Muggle seemed to think it out of the ordinary that a previously invisible house was now in plain sight.

Harry stepped into the entryway, took off his shoes and coat, and headed into the kitchen. The kitchen table, he found, was already laden with food. Harry sighed. Some of the Hogwarts house elves had picked up the habit of occasionally bringing him food, being able to Apparate despite all the wards. The food was always delicious, but it was a cruel reminder of Dobby that he didn't really need.

Harry pulled the next letter off the stack, and sat down at the table. He ate as he read, enchanted by his parents' words, and wondering what could have happened if only he had grown up with Sirius.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Happy birthday! It's hard to imagine you as ten years old and reading this letter. Right now, you're in your crib, napping. You don't even know that we're in hiding, really. I think you've developed a good sense of time, however, because you seem to be wondering why Sirius and Remus haven't been to visit. Ah, well, on with the story:_

 _Remus, Peter, and Sirius came over one day, and they were all playing with you, laughing, and having a great time. I was afraid, of course, that would over-stimulate you (too much noise and movement and the like can do that to babies), but your father was pretty good at keeping control in those situations. So, I got up to make some tea, and as the water is near boiling, I hear odd noises coming from the room they were in. I went in to see what it was, and I will never forget the sight that greeted me. All four of them were bobbing on the ceiling, trying desperately to grab onto the walls and pull themselves down. And there you were, in the middle of the room, lying on your back and watching the show._

 _It did take us a while to get them down, and no one was quite sure as to what could possibly have triggered that reaction, but all in all, the rest of the day was fun. It was your first accidental magic, after all, and there's no time to be mad at a baby._

 _Love, Mum & Dad_

 _P.S. Mum's still writing the letters. She says my handwriting is sloppy. -Dad_

Harry smiled. He could almost hear his parents' laughter as they wrote these letters, reliving the memories that had never surfaced in his mind. He see Sirius, bouncing about on the ceiling of the house that Harry had once lived in. Remus, laughing as he failed to bring himself down to the ground. His father, floating in air, suspended by accidental magic. And Peter. Peter, hitting his head against the ceiling, over and over, only getting down after many hours, and then living in St. Mungo's, never being able to leave, never the Secret Keeper that betrayed his parents…

No. He couldn't think that. He couldn't wish that kind of hurt against someone else, even if they were a filthy rat. There were many fates worse than death, and he was sure one of them was to be on the brink of insanity, never quite making it to the bliss of having the mind of an infant, always striving for a little bit more, feeling as though a piece of you is missing, something that is just out of reach, as soon as you start to grab it, it moves farther away.

Besides, Pettigrew had suffered enough, forced to strangle himself with what had once been a gift. A gift from Voldemort, nevertheless, but still something he would never imagine hurting him. Of course, that didn't mean that Harry should feel sorry for the traitor, he was still just as bad as ever, and would certainly not need any more reminders.

Harry glanced at the clock, realizing that it was late and that he should go to sleep. He wanted to read the next letter, but he was determined to wait. If he had gotten these letters when he was supposed to, he would have had to wait months. Surely he could wait one night. And he wasn't going to become obsessed with these letters, either. Instead, they would be something to look forward to each day. A relief from the crazy that ensued whenever he so much as opened the front door.

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 **Thank you so much for reading my story! In the reviews: should I write some chapters without letters? This would allow for a longer story, possibly longer chapters, and some cute/funny scenes I already have in mind. (I might make this the format for the next chapter).**

 **j. klix, I'll try to write longer chapters, it's definitely one of my struggles as a writer, and I'm glad you're enjoying the story.**


	4. Saturday

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own Harry Potter (still)**

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Harry woke up late the next day. When he finally did wake up, it was to the sound of an owl, hooting from his windowsill. He let the owl in, and it delivered its letter, cocking his head to one side in interest. Harry picked up _Daily Prophet_ , and was somewhat surprised to find a parchment as well. He skimmed through the letter uncaringly. Of course. Just another request for interview. Though not entirely accurate, one might think that the newspapers would find the story he and his friends had spewed satisfactory, but there must have been too many holes in the tale.

In an attempt to keep any more Voldemorts from popping up, they'd given a very vague explanation of his defeat. What they'd said was that Voldemort had attached his life to different objects and that he would not be able to die unless they were destroyed. They had not said what they were, just that there were a lot and that one had been unintentional. They'd also gone through every dark book they could find and burned any pages that mentioned Horcruxes. They tried to erase all traces of Horcruxes so that something like that could never exist again.

Harry contemplated opening the next letter, but even if he did, he wouldn't be able to finish it yet. After all, today was Saturday, and that meant he was meeting Ron and Hermione fro lunch at the Three Broomsticks. They were all plenty busy throughout the week. Hermione was often with her parents (who seemed to be doing very well from what Harry had heard), and Ron was off doing who-knows-what and looking for George, who had disappeared. Harry himself was working with the Ministry, helping them rebuild themselves after the war. Nearly everyone else was busy, too. Most of the stores and streets were fully rebuilt and lively now, though it wasn't even three months since the Final Battle.

Harry shifted through his robes, trying to pick the ones that would stick out the least. He'd stopped wearing all black robes a while ago, after the funerals, anyway. He wasn't wearing the brightest colors possibly like Lockhart, either. Instead, he leaned toward darker colors. Today he decided to wear deep red robes that reminded him of his old Quidditch robes. He stuffed the first letter into his pocket along with some money and started to Disapparate.

Apparating into Hogsmeade, Harry realised that he still had some time until he was meeting his friends. He strolled through the street, ignoring the stares and focusing on his gaze on the storefronts. Several new shops had popped up all over, and Harry had the feeling it was the sense of victory that had inspired some of the more courageous owners.

As he walked by, he spotted a new broom store. A firebolt was in the window, where a sign proudly announced that the handle now came in several colors. Harry's own broom had been lost before the Horcrux-hunting trip. Should he get a new one? He couldn't keep borrowing the Weasley's brooms forever, and there was a public Quidditch pitch near the Ministry… Maybe he would get a new broom, but not now. If he didn't turn around right now, he would never make it to the Three Broomsticks on time.

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Harry walked into the pub, thankful that nobody looked up as the warm August breeze was sucked inside the cooler, less sweat-inducing atmosphere. He looked around and found Hermione sitting at a round table in the corner, a cup of tea already next to her. She had pulled up two extra chairs and was scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment.

"Hi, Harry," Hermione greeted him as he sat down in one of the chairs. She blew on the paper, trying to dry the ink faster.

"Hi, Hermione. Do you know where Ron is?"

"He'll be here soon." Hermione stuffed both quill and ink into her bag. It seemed to Harry that she did not want him to see what she had been writing.

"What's that?" he pointed to the paper which Hermione had hidden the front of.

"Just some ideas," she said, sliding past his question as easy as can be. They stayed silent for a few moments, Harry wondering just what Hermione and been writing. Ideas or not, they had piqued his interest.

"Sorry I'm late," Ron said, stepping up behind them. "One of the D.A. members found mention of them in a book."

"What title?"

" _The Darkest Objects_."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Harry shook his head. "The press just doesn't seem to like our explanation. We've made it perfectly clear why we're being so secretive - they need to leave us be!"

"Harry, they know there's more to the story, and they will stop at nothing," Hermione informed him for the nth time.

"Bloody reporters," Ron mumbled.

Harry's mind began to drift off, returning to the letters - why had his parents written them? Had they known there was a chance he could survive? And if so, how?

"Oi! Mr. Hero!" Ron's voice pulled him back to reality. "Are you even listening?"

"No, and don't call me that," Harry grumbled.

""Well, what's got your mind at the North Pole?" Hermione not-so-gently probed.

"Just... thinking."

"No, you're not."

"Harry," Ron addressed him. "Whenever you get that look in your eyes, we now you're either coming up with a plan or trying not to tell us something."

"I found some things in Sirius' bedroom," Harry finally relented after several long moments. He pulled the letter out of his robes and set it on the table. He waited quietly while the read, Hermione finishing first.

"That's brilliant!" Ron exclaimed when he was done reading.

"But how?" Hermione voiced all of Harry's questions with just two words. "They couldn't have known, could they? Harry, are you certain these are from your parents?"

"Of course they are! Don't you recognize my mum's writing from the letter to Sirius?"

"I suppose…"

"Oh, why does that matter? Have you read them all yet?" Harry found Ron's response much more satisfying than Hermione's.

"Not yet, but I'm going to. I just found them yesterday. By the way, Hermione, do you know anything about stinking scrumpets?"

"Well, they're a part of the scrumpet family, so… all parts are poisonous expect the fruit, which must be harvested exact seven days after it begins to form, and be planted under a new moon, with only two hours of sunlight a day, and can be dried and kept for centuries, but other than that, nothing. Each type of scrumpet has a very specific use, and it's a seventh year concept."

"Never stopped you before," Ron pointed out.

"Yes, but I've other things to do besides reading. I've already made several trips back to Hogwarts, the work is coming along so quickly, and there's the S.P.E.W, but I honestly think that's going nowhere-"

"You can finally see reason," Ron broke in.

"So I've decided to start interviewing house elves."

"I take that back."

They talked for a while longer, but Harry's mind continued to linger on the letters. What if Hermione was right? What if they weren't really from his parents? But that was impossible! The handwriting was clearly his mother's, and the p.s. At the end of each letter was written in a handwriting not unlike his own. 'Sloppy,' as his mum had called it.

"Speaking of Hogwarts, Ginny and I are going book shopping tomorrow if you two want to come. Ginny seems to know something we don't and is really keen on getting you guys to show up."

Harry finally broke out of his reverie as Hermione said this, and agreed to come almost immediately. After all, he hadn't been to Diagon Alley for quite a while (not that he could go there on his own, he was sad to admit. The goblins had decided to go 'light' on him and Ron, only requiring that they hand their wands to a friend upon entering the bank.).

Harry glanced down at his watch, realising with a start that he had a meeting with Kingsley in five minutes.

"I have to go," he said. "Meeting with Kingsley."

"Bye, Harry."

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 **Thanks to all who read this chapter! Al** **so: 1,375 words, not including this note and the disclaimer! ragsweas, I think I get your idea about the story/reaction ... I have something similar planned for [a] later chapter[s]. Don't worry, I've already written the 11th b-day letter, it's about a page long in google docs. :) Beaker77, thanks for the review! Same for you, Cassandra30! As you can see, the chapters are getting longer. Please review!**


	5. Happy Eleventh Birthday

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

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Harry sat in the seat in front of the Minister's desk, fidgeting a bit.

"Longbottom's group report?" Kingsley asked him.

"They found another book, _The Darkest Objects_. The book hunt just started, but so far they've managed Diagon Alley and Hogwarts."

Since the end of the war, a lot of restoration was needed. In order to insure this, Kingsley had temporarily restarted the D.A. They had separated into seven different groups, each with a group leader that reported to Harry, who, in turn, reported to Kingsley. Neville's group was responsible for eradicating mention of Horcruxes. Ron and Luna were in that group, as well as a few others. Hermione's group helped with the Hogwarts clean up, while Ernie MacMillan led a small troop through the different villages Voldemort had destroyed. There were several other groups, including one that was currently building a memorial to put in the Hogwarts Courtyard.

Many people had thought this was a bad idea and that the young witches and wizards should not be responsible with such actions. But they'd all fought in the battle of Hogwarts, and Harry had put them through two weeks more training, enough for them to be able to defend themselves until an emergency Auror was able to show up, called by a Patronus.

Harry shuffled through his owled in reports, reading them off to Kingsley and giving him any smaller details. After the meeting, Harry Flooed back to Grimmauld Place.

He brushed the ash off his shirt and opened the curtains hanging in front of a window. Sunlight streamed in, brightening the entire room. Harry squinted out the glass. It was a nice day outside, and Harry wanted to enjoy the summer while it lasted. Soon, it would turn to fall, and with that the D.A. would disband and all would go back to their jobs, schools, or, in the case of him and Ron, start Auror training.

With a flick of his wand, Harry changed into Muggle clothes and pocketed the letter. Stepping back outside, he used his hand to comb his bangs back over his forehead, and set out at an even pace. The park he chose was beautiful one. A path led the way in a loop around the space with several trails leading into the woods that bordered the East and South. In the center of the park, a playground hosted a dozen excited children, running and playing tag. The rest of the park was a large field, dotted with flowers of all colors. Small fruit trees had been planted in the park as well, and Harry could see the beginnings of an apple on one. He sat down on a bench underneath a late-blooming tree and began to read.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Happy eleventh birthday! You'll be getting your Hogwarts letter today! Here are some words of advice: 1) Be confident in your actions. People tend to like you better when you seem less hesitant. Going into Hogwarts, you can only gain, not lose. 2) Friends mean the world. Cherish your friends. Realize that a fight was silly,; and make up. 3) Slytherin's not all that bad. Plenty of Slytherins are good people. 4) Don't you dare eat too much candy from the trolley. You do not want to get sick at the feast. 5) Follow the rules. More detention = less time to study. Now, onto your present._

 _When you were really little, before we went into hiding, the rest of the Marauders would visit often. You always liked Sirius the best, which is good because you should be living with him now. Well, when he came over, he would turn into a dog. You quickly developed a habit of riding him (safety charms in place). Once, on your ride, you wanted to go outside. Since Muggles aren't very used to seeing babies riding large dogs, we told you no. So you know what you did? You brought the outside inside. The carpet turned into grass, flowers popped up, even a few trees. The sun was shining from the ceiling and clouds floated overhead. I swear I even saw a few birds fly by. Don't worry, though, we were able to fix it. Remus was thoroughly impressed, though. Peter was too. Kept whispering excitedly._

 _Have fun at Hogwarts, and please follow the rules (I actually think that Dad and Sirius hold the record for most detentions - assuming Filch keeps a record)._

 _Love, Mum & Dad_

 _P.S. Tickle the pear - Dad_

Harry stood up and began to walk around the park, lost in his thoughts. It all seemed so well thought-out and planned, as though him living through an attack was more than a possibility; almost as though it were a fact. And again, he wondered, why write these letters? One could not just know he would survive. Defeating Voldemort - not defying, as his parents had done - but actually _defeating_ him? The only one anyone would have thought was able to that was Dumbledore, not a baby. Unless, he supposed, they had heard the prophecy, which might mean that they thought that he could have defeated him on his first confrontation. But then, what about the power the Dark Lord knows not?

About seven meters ahead of Harry, a small family was walking on the path. The boy was jabbering non-stop, so quick that Harry couldn't understand a word he was saying.

"Zack," the man said. "You need to slow down. I know you're excited, but you've still got two weeks left of summer."

"I know! Two weeks! And we haven't even gotten my books! Oo, when we do, can I get a cat?"

"We've already talked about this," he mother reminded him gently. "You're not getting owl because you're sharing with your brother and-"

"Toads are just stupid, so can I _please_ get a cat? Please?"

"Maybe, but only if you behave for the next few days…"

"What House do think I'll be in? I hope I'm in Ravenclaw, like you, Dad. Or Gryffindor. Patty says I'll be good in Gryffindor, and that's the House she's in, so she's got to know something about it."

"Zack," the man warned. "We're in a Muggle park. Be quieter."

The boy seemed to have not heard this comment, and continued talking. "I'm really nervous, though, too. What if no one likes me? That wouldn't be fun."

"There's no need to be nervous." Harry himself didn't know he was going to say anything until the words were already out of his mouth. And now he had to say something else. Because they were staring at him. Crap. "Going into Hogwarts…" _Think quickly, what can I say?_ "You can only gain, not loose." Thank Merlin his mum was a good writer.

"Are you Harry Potter?" the boy asked, curious.

"I am," Harry said. At least this was something he was used to. "And who are you?"

"My name is Mark Corrigan," the man held out his hand for Harry to shake, which he did.

"I'm his wife, Sarah," the woman introduced herself. "And this is our son, Zack."

"Hello, Zack," Harry greeted the boy. Zack didn't respond.

"I should probably be leaving now," Harry said. "But it was nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Corrigan. You too, Zack."

Harry left the park, ready to go back to Grimmauld Place and make himself dinner. The August sun hung low in the sky, the shadows lengthening on the pavement. A cool breeze flew by, reminding Harry that Autumn was starting soon, and with it, Auror training.

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 **Thanks for reading!** **Words: 1,210.** **This chapter isn't my best (or longest), but in my defense, I had really bad writer's block and restarted the second half four times. ragsweas and Beaker77, thank you both for continuing to post reviews on my story. Millie, all your questions will be answered in later chapters. Aithne, I'm glad you like my story! Please review: Do you want more of the D.A.? The story could work with or without any meetings, but i'll need a decision soon. Also, should we meet Zack again? He would most likely be a minor character in that scenario.**


	6. Memories

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me.**

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Harry walked back into his bedroom, walking past the long wooden cabinet that covered most of the wall. As soon as he could, Harry had fixed the house, cleaning out the the room he now slept in, as well as a few guest rooms and sitting room and such. A part of that cleanup had been putting up a the wooden cabinet along the wall, covering the portraits, house elf heads, and cancelling out all noise from dear Mrs. Black. Now, the only painting on the wall was of Sirius, beaming and smiling at Harry as he walked by. Harry sometimes had conversations with him, but not very often.

Entering his room, Harry sat down on his chair in the corner. He picked the letter labeled for the Christmas of 1991 off the stack. He opened the envelope, trying not to rip it.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Merry Christmas! I hope your first term was good! I wish I could know what house you were sorted into, but seeing as I'm dead if you're reading this, I don't think I do. Remember, if you didn't feel very good about your grades this term, you're still able to catch up. It's when you get into third year that you really can't fall behind in class. I hope you haven't gotten too many detentions. If you have, no need to worry. You can always become a better student._

 _I'm assuming you'll have met Neville Longbottom? You two have actually met several times. Please be kind to him, if not a friend. Frank was teased about his surname, and I have no doubt that Neville will experience similar teasing. The teasing is ever so awful._

 _Enough about school. Go build a snowman. Enjoy your Christmas. Eat some food._

 _Love, Mum & Dad_

 _P.S. Make sure Dumbledore gives you the Cloak. -Dad_

 _P.P.S. Try not to get yourself into too much trouble with the Cloak. -Mum_

Harry smirked. Not into too much trouble with the Cloak? Even Hermione consented to sneak into the third floor corridor!

Yawning, Harry placed the letter back where it belonged and readied himself for bed. As he did so, his eye caught on the small vial kept in the bookshelf. Its swirling silver contents seemed to be beckoning Harry to watch what it had in store. Harry shook his head, laughing at himself a bit. He didn't even know why he'd put the memory there in the first place. He didn't have a Pensieve, so he couldn't look at it, not that he wanted to. What Harry thought stanger was his compulsion to keep the memory. Extracting it without a conscious reason was one thing, but keeping it… He supposed that he did know why it was there, though he didn't want to admit it. Harry himself wasn't going to look at it, and he had absolutely no intention of showing it to anyone else. Though if someone did get it, they would know almost instantly whose it was. And though it was silly and unnecessary, the memory was there to remind Harry of how he gotten in this mess.

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 **Again, thank you for reading! I know this chapter is really short, but I'm planning on having chapter seven be longer. Cassandra30, Ainthe, and ragsweas, thank you for reviewing. Cassandra, I have a letter-lengthening concept coming with the next letter. Now: Does anyone want to return to the memory? Possibly find out which one it is?**


	7. Diagon Alley

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not owned by me.**

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Harry heated his tea water with a flick of his wrist - he had found simple wandless magic rather easy - and added the tea leaves. As he waited for it to steep, he made the rest of his breakfast: toast and eggs. Easy and simple.

An owl hooted at the window, and as Harry moved to let it in, his brown robes swished about his ankles. Sitting at the table with the _Daily Prophet_ in his hands, Harry began to eat. His eyes skimmed the pages of the newspaper, trying to find something interesting. Ah, there it was. An article talking about the work done at Hogwarts appeared a few pages in, accompanied by a black-and-white picture of the castle. The picture was hardly moving, save for a breeze that swept by the bushes on the far edge of the frame.

Remembering that he was meeting Ron, Hermione, and Ginny in at the Leaky Cauldron, Harry tried to flatten his hair, in an attempt to become less recognizable. But no matter how hard he tried, his hair would just bounce up again. Giving up, he picked up his wand and washed the dishes.

Checking the time, Harry realized he should leave soon if he didn't want to be late. He threw the Floo Powder into the fire, stepped in, shouted "Leaky Cauldron," and was whooshed away in a frenzy of emerald flames.

Trying not to make a scene, Harry stepped out of the fireplace. To his surprise, he was the first of his friends to arrive. Waiting idly in the pub, Harry saw a couple second looks thrown his way, but no reporters came to question him.

Hermione stepped out of the fireplace a few minutes later, brushing her bushy hair out of her face.

"Oh, you're here," she said in mild surprise.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well…" she gestured toward the people scattered at the tables.

"I can scare them off," Harry dismissed her worries with a shrug. "Besides," he added. "I don't want to to be hexed."

"Yes, Ginny did seem rather… determined to have all of us come."

The bell on the door gave a little ring as it opened, and Ron and Ginny entered the already crowded pub. Ron was grumbling under his breath (something that sounded an awful like "this better not take too long"). Ginny, on the other hand, seemed extremely excited to be here. It was odd, really. She had never been enthused to shop for school supplies, yet her brown eyes sparked with anticipation, and she had the air of an over-stimulated puppy.

Hermione shook her head in slight confusion over Ginny's apparent bounciness, raised a questioning eyebrow at Ron.

"I thought you weren't coming."

"I wasn't," said Ron shortly.

"What made you change your mind?"

Ron scowled and quickly explained that several hexes had been placed on both him and his belongings until he agreed to come.

Ginny didn't appear to have been listening to this brief conversation, though that was to be expected, as she was literally jumping up and down on her toes with excitement.

"Alright, let's go!" she chirped happily, giving Harry a smile. He smiled back oddly intimidated by her mood.

After all, the Weasleys had never been thrilled to visit the Alley after the war, most of them staying away from it as much as possible. Harry understood why, of course.

For where there had once been a gloomy, sad alley, looking almost deserted, and drooping with the weight of a war; where one shop had brightened the street, its neon lights gleaming and reflecting off the windows of the empty shops near it; the roles seemed to have been switched. Now, the alley was bright and cheerful, recovering from the war spectacularly, buzzing with the excitement of the press; one shop stood alone. Its windows were now the darks, spiders now nested in its eves. Dust had gathered inside, only seen if one were to squint through the grimy glass. The _W_ in _Wizard's_ was falling off, and Harry feared it would come crashing down any day. That being said, Ginny's attitude was very strange indeed, and coupled with George's recent disappearance, highly suspicious.

The four made their way through the pub, attracting the usual stares and second-glances. Reaching the brick wall, Hermione tapped her wand against the brick three up and two across from the trash can. Ginny stepped forward first, her eyes wide and alert. She peered down the alleyway, so keen on finding something unknown to Harry, so eager to be in the alley today (far too eager in Harry's opinion), and…

Ginny's blissful atmosphere disappeared as quick as bubble can pop. Her shoulder's slumped, her smile faded, and she no longer looked like she wanted to go shopping.

"Oh," she said quietly. "Oh, well… it's okay, we can still go shopping… Gringotts?"

Ron gave a confused shrug and glanced at Harry and Hermione, who both gave a similarly bemused expression. They started down the alley, walking past the shops on their way to the wizard bank. Harry couldn't help but notice that Ron and Hermione were casually holding hands in a way that suggested an easy relationship. Harry felt a small pang of jealousy at this. He and Ginny hadn't been able to slide back into dating after the war (although this probably had something to do with Ron, judging by the fact that Ginny stopped talking to him during the week before Harry's birthday).

As they walked up the steps to Gringotts, Harry was all too aware of the goblins glaring at him. Sighing, he surrendered his wand to Ginny, Ron doing the same.

"Is it real?" on of the guards asked in a gruff voice.

"Ye-" Harry began, but he was cut off.

"Not you," the goblin growled, turning to Ginny. "Is is?"

"Yes," she said, a little uncertain about the goblin's particular procedure.

"I still don't get why you're allowed to have your wand," Ron said to Hermione.

"Because, Ronald," she said. "Girls are more trustworthy than boys. Even the Hogwarts founders thought so."

They approached one of the goblins, requesting to be taken down to their vaults. Harry was surprised when Ginny said that she had her own vault. He knew Ron and Hermione had gotten their own, but…

"You have a vault?" he'd asked.

"Why shouldn't I?" she'd teased. "I am seventeen."

Walking out of Gringotts (and redistributing the wands), the four began to make their way to the different shops. But before they could enter the first store, a shop across the street lit up so suddenly that everyone turned to stare.

 _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_ , screamed the neon lights. For a second, no one said or did anything. Then, Ginny grabbed Harry's wrist and ran towards the door, dragging Harry along with her. He was faintly aware of Ron and Hermione's footsteps behind them, but the shock of the George opening the shop was beginning to set in, and he couldn't really think anything at all.

Stepping inside, Ginny finally let Harry out of her death grip, and he walked around as though in a daze. The shop was clean and bright, each display looking as though it hadn't ever seen a dust bunnie. The only difference Harry seemed to spot was the absence of pygmy puffs.

"Like it?" Harry jumped at the voice, spinning around. George stood behind him, grinning - _actually_ _grinning!_

"Thanks for the scrumpets, by the way."

"What are they for?"

"Typically used to make poisons appetizing, they smell rather good, contrary to their name. I used them in this." He held up a small vial filled with swirling green liquid. "It's fake mint spray. Makes your breath awful."

They had to leave the shop soon, however. Ron had an armload of products, Ginny a handful of potions, and Hermione had a rather odd expression on her face. She looked as though she could not decide between being uptight about the fact that several pranks were being pulled on her in the near future, or if she should be happy that George had opened again.

They made their way through the shops, talking and laughing the whole way. When they finally reached Flourish and Blotts, they were quite surprised to find that Neville was there. He had a large book on herbology under one arm, and a potted plant in the other.

"Hi, Harry."

"Hi, Neville. What's that?"

"Just a decoration plant. It lets off a nice smell, so tons of people have them. When's the next D.A. meeting?"

"Tuesday."

"Isn't it the last one?" Ron interjected.

"Yeah," said Harry.

Hermione mumbled something that sounded a lot like "not quite…"

"What'd you say?" asked Ginny.

"Nothing, Ginny. I'll show on Tuesday."

"See you on Tuesday, Neville."

"Bye, Harry."

Shopping completed, the four headed back to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Hey, Harry," said Ginny. "We're heading down to a lake later this week. Want to come swimming with us?"

"Oh, um…" Harry stalled, trying to remember what he had planned for this week. "Sure, I'll probably be able to go. Owl me later?"

Ginny nodded, and to Harry's great relief dropped the subject.

"Lunch?" Harry offered, gesturing toward and an empty table.

"Sorry, I've got a house elf interview," Hermione said, checking her watch.

"Book hunt," said Ron.

"I've got D.A. stuff, too," said Ginny. "See you soon!"

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 **Thank you all for reading! Words: 1, 565 (the longest chapter yet!). Ainthe and ragsweas, thank you for continuing to review. , I'm glad you liked the last chapter! Cassandra30, the memory will probably come up again, though we may not ever visit it. I hope you liked the chapter, and please review!**


	8. Noomy and Foof

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine.**

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Harry began moving through the crowd, trying to get to the fireplace. It wasn't long, however, before he found himself face-to-face with a reporter. He groaned. Really? Now was not the time. He needed to get home and prepare for the D.A. meeting.

"Mr. Potter, what brings you to Diagon Alley today?"

"Can you tell us more about your years at Hogwarts?"

"How do you feel about the many who died during the Battle of Hogwarts?"

"Will you ever reveal what truly happened during the Battle of Hogwarts?"

These questions, were, of course, to be expected, but Harry's ear was drawn to the more unusual ones.

"What spell do you think you used the most during your life?"

"What was your earliest memory of accidental magic?"

"Are you seeing anyone?" (a question more common than Harry cared for, though still rather surprising, perhaps due to Hermione's outright refusal to accept any such questions from Rita Skeeter).

Harry stood, stiff as board, as the onslaught of questions continued. He didn't answer a single one of them, more because he was overwhelmed than anything. He would be plenty happy to answer all their questions and never seen them again.

"How do you feel about the defeat of You-Know-Who?"

There was a silence after this was asked, as if the question had been tabooed. All the reporters turned to look at him, and several customers did as well. Harry stayed silent too, for a moment, then realized that someone had to break the silence.

"Call him Voldemort," he said, carefully annunciating each syllable. A split second more of silence, and the reporters disbanded, scribbling furiously in their notebooks.

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Having successfully Flooed himself to Grimmauld Place, Harry waved his wand, haphazardly making bread and cheese fly across the room, eventually forming a sandwich. Sastified, he sat down at the table with his lunch and picked up the next letter.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _I found a charm that makes it so the quill writes what we're saying!_ _ **Your mum's a genius.**_ _James, look! It's writing in different handwritings!_ _ **Wow.**_ _Harry, this is Mum._ _ **And this is Dad.**_ _I still can't believe it's working._ _ **That's the beauty of having half the library checked out right before you vanish off the face of the earth.**_ _I only have ten library books, and we did not "vanish off the face of the earth."_ _ **Padfoot's words, not mine.**_ _Foof said that?_ _ **Ooo, yes! He totally needs to hear about Foof!**_ _Really?_ _ **It's funny!**_ _Oh, alright._

 _ **So, when you had just started talking, saying stuff like "Mama,"and " Dada," Sirius came over almost every day.**_ _And, of course, James would always call him Padfoot._ _ **You eventually picked it up.**_ _But babies that young can't talk very well-_ _ **so it came out as "Foof."**_ _I'm sure you could have later called him Padfoot, had you wanted to, but the name stuck._

 _ **Then there was Moony.**_ _He made a considerable effort to get you to pronounce his name correctly, but you mixed up the "m" and the "n"._ _ **He would sit there, trying to get you to it. "Moony, Harry. Moony." and you would say "Noomy." and he would say "No, Harry Moony. Muh-oo-ny." and you would say "Noomy."**_ _This happened very frequently._ _ **It did.**_

 _You never actually said "Wormtail," come to think of it._ _ **I thought he did.**_ _Really?_ _ **He tried.**_ _Hmmm…. I never heard that._ _ **It sounded something "Um."**_ _James, babies say things like "um," all the time._ _ **Yes, but he said that when he saw Peter!**_ _Think what you want._

 _Harry, have a great school year, pay attention in your classes, do your homework, try not to get in trouble, and don't go wandering off or do anything remotely illegal._

 _Love,_

 _Mum_ _ **& Dad**_

 _ **P.S. You should start calling Sirius 'Foof.'**_

Harry took a few moments to laugh at this. If only he had read this sooner, he could have annoyed Remus so much… But now a different question had fought its way to the front of his mind: Why hadn't Sirius ever given him the letters?

Harry glanced up at the empty painting on the wall where Sirius should have been.

"Sirius?" he called. When Sirius didn't come, he tried again. "Snuffles? Padfoot?" Still, the frame remained empty. "Foof?

"Never thought I'd hear you say that again," said Sirius, grinning as he finally appeared. "Where'd you learn that, anyways?"

"The letters." Harry's answer was short and direct; surely Sirius would know what he meant.

"You found them?"

"Yes."

Sirius frowned slightly, then said. "Sorry I didn't give them to you, Harry. I would have, but…" he trailed off, leaving Harry to guess the rest of the sentence.

"Why not?" Harry prodded, hoping Sirius would tell him why.

"They were the last things they ever gave me in person. I wanted to keep them, I guess. I know it was selfish, but I just couldn't bring myself to give them up." Sirius looked close to crying now, unpainted tears welling in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

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 **Thank you for reading! I'm glad you liked seeing George, he will be back in a few chapters. ragsweas and Ainthe, thank you for the reviews! I know this chapter is a little short, but I think it's important to address why Sirius hadn't given Harry the letters before. Anyway... thank you again for reading, and please review!**


	9. Call Him Voldemort

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter**

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"Wotcher, Harry," a familiar voice greeted him, and he reached out, knowing that Remus and Tonks were right there… but it was too late. He could already feel himself slipping out of the dream, and no matter how hard he tried, the effort of staying lucid was too much. He drifted out of consciousness as though watching fabric fray, knowing it was still there, and that he might even stay in this dream, he was almost guaranteed to forget it. He had found it hard to remember dreams when he was not lucid.

Harry awoke hours later, trying to dig up his nighttime wanderings from the depths of his memories. Lucid dreaming was something he had taken a liking to recently. He never outright controlled a dream, simply guided it in the direction he wanted it to go: talking to Remus, Tonks, Fred, Moody, and countless others. The habit also doubled as an effective way of ridding himself from nightmares. He no longer had had dreams as though he was Voldemort, but had relived the Battle of Hogwarts for weeks after the war until he had found a way to stop it.

He had to prepare for the D.A. meeting tomorrow, which was already enough work to keep him busy for an hour or two, but adding that it was the last one, he had a lot more to accomplish than was normal. He shuffled through his papers, then headed down the stairs to work.

Tea and toast in hand, he dipped his quill into the ink and began to jot down anything he wanted to bring up. At the end of August, it was beginning to cool down quite a bit, and Harry briefly considered starting a fire in the now-empty fireplace in front of him. Before he had time to dwell on the idea, however, bright green flames erupted in the hearth. A second later they hard turned orange, and Ginny's head popped out of them, looking rather alarmed.

"Ron says you haven't got an owl!" she exclaimed.

"I haven't," said Harry.

"You need one."

"Was that the entire point of Flooing me, to tell me I need an owl?""Yes."

There was a silence; neither of them knew what to say. Then, "Well, I'm going to take you to get one."

"When?"

"I dunno."

Harry heard shouting coming from the fireplace, and Ginny sighed.

"Mum wants me to tell you that we're going swimming on Wednesday."

"Okay."

"So I guess we'll go to Diagon Alley again after that."

The flames turned green again and were put out with a flash, leaving Harry to dissect the conversation. He liked Ginny very much, he knew that, and she seemed to want to go back to dating, but it had been a mutual agreement to not get back together until everyone was back on their feet after the war. He supposed Ron had, in some way, held it off, but Ginny wasn't one to listen to Ron. Oh, well. She would be going to Hogwarts soon, and he would start Auror training anyway, so there was no real logic behind starting up again at the end of the summer. Though he probably should get a new owl…

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He didn't finish the planning until lunchtime, and even then he was sure he'd forgotten something. He waved his wand haphazardly toward the kitchen and watched a sandwich was magically built, ingredients floating through the air and assembling themselves on his plate.

He sat down at the table, finally picking up the _Daily Prophet_ that had been delivered that morning. " _ **Weasley's Wizard Wheezes Reopens**_ ," screamed the headline. Harry smiled, skimming the story. A picture of George standing outside the door was positioned in the center of the page. Ginny, Ron, George, and Mrs. Weasley had all declined interviews, and there was no doubt the journalist who wrote the article was disappointed.

A small column off to the side of page one caught his eye. It was titled "Call Him Voldemort." Harry read the article, and found it to be well-written. Instead of twisting his words, like Rita Skeeter would have done, the article analyzed what he had said. Several people have already made the change, and it made little sense for half the population to continue saying You-Know-Who. The article ended with the words "Perhaps we should follow Mr. Potter's advice, and call him Voldemort."

Remembering the letter, Harry Summoned it from where he was. He opened the envelope and pulled out the letter.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Merry Christmas! Happy new year! Hope you had a good first term._

 _If you're reading this, we're dead. And if we're dead, then You-Know-Who killed us._ _ **Um, Lily?**_ _And I have decided that I will not die afraid to say the name of my murderer._ _ **Is this a good idea?**_ _And you shouldn't be afraid to say the name of the man who murdered your parents. Voldemort. Oh, don't flinch like that, James._ _ **I can't help it!**_ _I'm sure you can at least stop flinching. You should really start calling him "Voldemort" too. It's stupid how we treat the name "Voldemort" like a swear word!_ _ **Okay…**_ _Go on, now._ _ **What?**_ _Say "Voldemort," that's what._ … _ **moldy wart.**_ _Oh, dear. It looks like you were mumbling. The quill couldn't hear you._ _ **Alright, fine. Voldemort.**_ _That wasn't so bad, was it?_ _ **No.**_ _Now will you start calling him "Voldemort" for good?_ _ **We're in hiding, Lily. No one will know whether or whether not we say his name.**_ _Harry will._

 _Love,_

 _Mum_ _ **& Dad**_

 _ **P.S. Tell Sirius merry Christmas for me. -Dad**_

So his parents had started saying Voldemort's name just a few weeks before they died. And his Mum had wanted him to do the same. Well, he was doing just that.

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 **Thanks for reading! Sorry about the late-ish update. I had a busy weekend and wasn't able to write much. Cassandra30, I'm glad you liked the letter! Aithne, Sirius's portrait was mentioned briefly in chapter 6. Ismaran, I'm sorry you didn't like the last chapter. I'll try to do better. As always, please review!**


	10. A New Mission

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine.**

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Harry walked into the meeting room almost a half-hour early and began to rearrange the furniture, conjuring several chairs as he went. He pushed the small table off to the corner by the door and set the chairs in a circle. He started counting the chairs, but eventually gave up and muttered " _Count!_ " a hazy number twenty-one appeared in the air, and Harry vanished it with a wave of his wand.

As he finished conjuring the last of the chairs, the door opened. He sighed, hoping that it wasn't already time for the meeting.

"Hello, Harry," said an airy voice from the door.

"Oh, hi, Luna." Luna was always a few minutes early, which gave Harry fair warning as to when the others would be arriving.

"I saw the article in the _Daily Prophet_."

"Yeah?"

"I think more people will start calling him Voldemort," she said thoughtfully, then added. "It doesn't take much for you to get in the paper, does it?"

"No, it doesn't."

"Ready for the meeting? Last one."

"I know. I'm really going to miss it. Oh, well. I'll still see you all anyway. You going back to Hogwarts?"

"Yes. And then after that, I'm going to travel a bit. I might even find a Crumple-Horned Snorkack."

"You might." The door opened again, and a small crowd filed into the room. Slowly, all the seats were filled, Ron and Hermione choosing the chairs closet to the front. Harry took a deep breath and began the meeting.

"Thank you all for coming. So today, we're just going to go over what we've accomplished, and what happens after this. It is the last meeting-" an odd sort of noise came from where Hermione was sitting, but her face remained unchanged. "- so things will be a bit different. The Hogwarts Rebuild Group has done a wonderful job helping the Ministry, and Hogwarts is ready for use. Special thanks to team leader Hermione Granger. The village rebuilding has also gone tremendously, thank you to Cho Chang. Hannah Abbott and her crew have been working diligently at the Hogwarts grounds to construct a memorial, which as I understand is a few days from being finished." Hannah nodded in approval.

"And finally, thank you Neville's group, for helping to prevent further Horcruxes. You have destroyed a total of thirty-six book titles, twelve journals, and fifteen other items."

Neville stood up. "It's actually thirty-seven books, now. We just found one yesterday."

Harry nodded and wrote that down. "Should anyone find a Mention, you are to notify me immediately via owl, or Patronus in the case of multiple copies of a book in one location."

"I feel like we're missing something," Hermione said. "Like we're forgetting it, I just haven't got a clue what it is! I just can't remember!"

Harry paused for a moment. Come to think of it, it did seem like something was missing. "You're right," he said. "What is it?"

"Remember…" said Ron slowly. "That's exactly what we need to do."

"Of course it is, Ron."

"No, I mean, Slughorn's memory!"

Harry stared at him, astonished at his own lack of over-looking this detail. Hermione looked like she could have kissed him (thankfully, she did not). The others looked merely confused, glancing around awkwardly.

"Alright, yes," said Harry. "We'll be able to get that, I know where it is. Moving on. What happens now. Some of us are going to Hogwarts, some of us are going to become Aurors, some of us have other plans. For anyone who doesn't know what they're going to do, George Weasley has asked me to extend his employe hunt to you, simply go to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and ask for him. Does anyone have any questions? No? Are you sure? Okay, then. Thank you all for coming to the last D.A. meeting…"

"Actually… " Hermione had stood up again. She pulled a small, jangling pouch out of her robe pocket. She opened it up and handed a small, golden coin to Harry.

"A Galleon," he said, turning it over in his hand. But that wasn't an ordinary Galleon. In fact, it looked awfully like the ones they'd had in fifth year. Everyone leaned forward a little to see what it was.

Hermione held one up for them to get a closer look. "I made them better this time. Now Harry can choose who it calls, because we won't all need to get together at the same time anymore. When you get it, tap it with your wand, and say your full name. Don't lose them" She set the pouch on the small table in the corner and walked over to Harry.

"We need to go get the memory soon." Ron walked over behind her, nodding in agreement. "How about tomorrow after swimming?"

"Oh, okay," said Ron, and he went over to the table to get a coin.

"Uh - Hermione, I have plans for tomorrow after swimming," Harry said.

"What?" she asked, digging through her bag to find something.

"Ginny and I were going to go to Diagon Alley."

"You were?" Hermione had looked up from the bag; this seemed to be something that interested her greatly. He nodded.

"Oh, good. I've been trying to get you two to go out for ages. You really should go to a Muggle place, though."

"We should," Harry agreed. Hermione went back to what she had been doing, wandering away from Harry in the process. "Hey, wait a minute! Were you setting us up?" But Hermione didn't answer, she just pulled out her wand and began to restore the room to its former state.

"Hey, Ron!" Harry called. "Did you know Hermione was trying to get me and Ginny together?"

"What?" said Ron unconcernedly. "Oh, yeah."

"Are we the only ways not aware of this?"

"Well, I don't think Mum and Dad know…"

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 **Thanks for reading! I know the chapter's a bit short, but it's important to the story and needed to to be on its own, away from the other bit that I wrote last week. Cassandra30 and Aithne, thank you for the reviews!**


	11. How to Get the Ladies

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

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After returning to Grimmauld Place, Harry sat down to think in one of the guest rooms. It was the one he still hadn't shown Hermione for fear that she would go into hyper-mode. A large bookshelf stood along one wall, stocked with as many books it as could fit. Next to the books was a large green armchair which Harry now sat down in. He, Ron, and Hermione were going to get Slughorn's memory, Hermione had been trying to get him and Ginny to start dating, and now he was going to have to cancel his plans with her. He walked into the small sitting room on the second floor, and started a fire in the hearth. He Summoned the next letter, and, opening the envelope, began to read.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _ **Happy Birthday!**_ _Now, I know we've mainly been telling accidental magic stories, but just because you're a wizard doesn't mean those are the only funny moments from you._ _**Oh, no! I thought that magical babies were born knowing how to walk and talk!**_ _Exactly. So today you're hearing the story of when we got the cat._ _ **Ah, yes. The cat.**_ _Sirius hated her._ _ **He did.**_ _She was gorgeous, though. A calico._ _ **Her name was Tiara.**_ _Lovely name for a cat. Alice chose it. And Tiara took quite a liking to her._ _ **Neville, too.**_

 _It took Tiara a few days to get comfortable with all of us, but once she did it was great._ _ **And she slept a lot.**_ _Anywhere and everywhere._ _ **So one day, when we had just put you to bed for a nap, Tiara went missing.**_ _We didn't notice at first, but once we did, we spent a good twenty minutes looking for her._ _ **By this time, your naptime was over, so Mum went to get you. She goes into the room, and a few moments later I hear "James, come in here." So I walk in, and the cat was in your crib!**_ _She'd crawled in just after you, and curled up in the corner. You had fallen asleep with your head on Tiara. I think it may have been one of the cutest things I've ever seen._ _ **Until Tiara stood up. When she stood up, you woke up.**_ _And being a baby, you weren't too pleased with being woken up._ _ **Tiara, who'd been standing in the doorway, ran for it when you started crying.**_ _But Sirius was coming over, and he actually managed to be early for once._ _ **When Sirius knocked on the door, Tiara went into panic mode.**_ _She ran around the house at top speed for ten minutes._ _ **After a while, you stopped crying and watched as she raced around, laughing.**_

 _We gave Tiara to the Longbottoms before we put the charm in place._ _ **I'm sure she's doing just fine. I wouldn't be surprised if Neville's brought her to Hogwarts.**_

 _We love you, Harry._ _ **Have a good third year.**_

 _Love,_

 _Mum & Dad_

 _ **P.S. Don't give up on the ladies. They'll come 'round eventually.**_

 _P.P.S. First of all, you're too young to be dating. Second, I'm not sure what advice your father is trying to give, but try not to be a nuisance and ask her out every time you see her._

Harry, who had laughed his way through this letter, stood up and walked around the room absently. What had happened to Tiara? And what had driven his parents to write these letters? Shaking the questions out of his mind, Harry turned back to the fireplace. The fire had grown quite large now, and was giving off a lot of heat. Taking a handful of Floo powder from the pot on the mantle (he had one on each fireplace), he stuck his head into the Weasley's kitchen. He did, after all, have his own lady to deal with.

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Harry collapsed on the chair, still in shock. That, he concluded, went extremely well given the circumstances. All the same, he couldn't stop replaying the embarrassing scene in his head.

" _Well - I - you know, D.A. stuff and… After swimming going somewhere."_

" _What?" Ginny had looked genuinely confused by his copious amount of stuttering._

" _We have to find a different time to go on our date."_

" _A date, is it?" she'd asked, with a hint of a laugh in her voice; there was certainly one in her eyes._

" _Yes…."_

" _If that's what you want to call it. Where should we go?"_

" _Muggle place? How does lunch on Friday work?"_

" _Great! See you tomorrow!"_

The worst part of it, Harry thought miserably, was that he was almost sure their conversation had been listened in on, whether or whether not the ears had been extendable. He lay in the chair for several minutes, trying to block out the awkwardness, when he remembered something. He was supposed to be taking care of Teddy on Friday from nine to noon. He groaned, sliding off the chair almost completely. After a moment, he sat back up, resolving to give Teddy back to Andromeda and Apparate to the Burrow from there. He and Ginny hadn't ever agreed on an exact time, meaning that anytime around lunch would be acceptable.

His stomach grumbled, a reminder that he still had today's lunch to think about. He walked down into the kitchen to eat, his mind still stuck on the issue at hand.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! This story now has over fifty followers, so thank you for that. I know this chapter isn't very long, but it was originally a part of the last chapter. The reason I changed it was because I already had the P.S. planned and it just fit so well! I'm sorry to anyone who supports the theory that Crookshanks was Lily's cat, but I didn't want to have to figure out all the other details that would require. Cassandra30 and ragsweas, thank you for the reviews. Capecodcanal, thank you for all the reviews. I looked up PTSD and found out that I was accidentally putting in and planning on putting in several symptoms... interesting to see that's how I imagined post-war Harry.**

 **In the reviews: house-elves? What do you think? Should I introduce one? On a slightly sadder note, today is the nineteenth anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts... wands up /***


	12. Swimming

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me.**

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Harry Apparated to the Burrow at eleven a.m. sharp, lemonade in one hand, and wand in the other. He had not wanted to turn up empty handed, and had settled for bringing the sour drink. He was wearing swimming trunks instead of shorts, and had Imperviused his glasses. He walked up the path to the Burrow, enjoying the last day of sun already.

"Hello, Harry!" The door flew open before Harry had even lifted his hand to knock; Mrs. Weasley was clearly glad to see him.

"Er- hi," he said, as she hugged him for three seconds too long.

"Come on in, dear, come on in." She ushered him inside, and he set the lemonade down on the table next to a large picnic basket. "How have you been? I've hardly seen you for the past month!"

"Mum, he came for my birthday last week!" said Ginny, looking extremely mortified. She was wearing a yellow summery dress, under which was presumably a swimsuit, and standing on the bottom-most stair.

"Yes, but that wasn't nearly long enough! Ron says you've just wrapped up the D.A!"

"Yeah, we have. Ron, Hermione, and I just have one more thing to do this afternoon."

"How lovely!" At this point, Harry had managed to get past Mrs. Weasley, and was heading for Ginny.

"Where are Hermione and Ron?" he asked.

"Hermione's not here yet, and Ron's still upstairs." Ginny glanced toward her mother, as though trying to determine if she was in earshot. But Mrs. Weasley had bustled off to the kitchen, so she began talking straightaway.

"Ron said Hermione made new D.A. coins."

"She did. They're pretty cool, actually. I think I have it in my pocket-"

"I don't care how 'cool' they are." Her tight voice, which had been sweet just seconds before, took Harry by surprise. "Sorry," she said. "I was just… wondering if I could have one, I mean, I'm of age and everything, so…"

"Hermione probably made extras, so you could ask her. I don't have anymore than mine, though."

"Oh." Ginny sounded somewhat disappointed, and it seemed to Harry that this was the only idea for a conversation she had.

"So… we're back together, then?" he asked, regretting the words as they left his mouth.

"Well, yes," said Ginny. "At least, that's what I thought. If you didn't mean - if you don't want to - then, uh…"

"It's fine," said Harry. "I meant it, it's just…"

"Awkward? Yes, very much so. Let's just get that part over with now, and enjoy the rest of the day."

"Fair enough. Did you hear Hermione was trying to set us up?"

"That's what she was up to!"

The pair stood there, at the bottom of the stairs for a moment, laughing. Ron swore loudly from upstairs just then, and both stopped laughing.

"Are you okay?" Ginny called.

"What the ruddy- He's put - what _is_ that?" Ginny and Harry exchanged a look, then dashed off to find Ron.

He was in the middle of his room, wearing just his swim trunks, and holding up a shirt covered in odd white powder. Ginny reached forward and swiped at the powder with her finger, and sniffed the residue.

"It doesn't smell like anything."

"I've never seen that before," said Harry.

"Well, neither have I," said Ron. "And I'm not too keen on wearing it."

Voices floated up from the sitting room, but Hermione's wasn't one of them.

"Where's Harry?" one voice asked.

"He's just gone upstairs," said Mrs. Weasley. "Ron seemed quite upset."

"They'll just have found it, then."

Footsteps pounded up the stairs, and George soon appeared in the doorway.

"Is it working?" he asked, eager anticipation all over his face.

"What in the name of Merlin is this stuff?" Ron demanded.

"Color-changing powder. It's working, is it? I've just got back from the shop, first time I've been able to take a break. Already hired a few D.A. members."

"Why is this on my shirt?"

"Well, I had to test it out on something, didn't I? Would you rather it be your hair?" Ron made an indistinct noise and pulled a Chudley Cannons shirt out of his dresser. He slipped the shirt over his head as Ginny stared at George in disbelief.

"Test it out?" Ginny repeated. "You've just made it? You're inventing?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" George asked, ruffling Ginny's hair. "I opened the shop."

"Hermione's here!" called Mrs. Weasley, and Ron, Ginny, and Harry rushed down to greet her, George entering his bedroom to change out of his WWW outfit.

Ginny and Harry both greeted Hermione with a hug, and Ron gave her a peck on the cheek. Hermione seemed to be taking advantage of the warm weather as well; she had worn white shorts and a red top that left her arms bare. She'd tied back her hair with a scarlet and gold bow, which she motioned at with her hand.

"Couldn't find this thing for a while. It was at the bottom of my trunk."

"It looks nice," Ginny said. "Hey, where'd you get that purse?" She pointed to the small brown bag hanging from Hermione's shoulder.

"Oh, it's from a Muggle place, a really good, too…"

Harry and Ron tuned out, and walked over to the couch.

"Chess?" Ron suggested, gesturing at the board.

"I think we're leaving soon." They fell silent, each staring off into space.

George appeared next to them with a crack, and sat down.

"Alright, let's go," said Mrs. Weasley. "Hermione and Harry, you two should side Apparate. The rest of us have been to the place before."

Ginny grabbed hold of Harry (once again with a tight grip), and Hermione took Ron's hand. A second later, they had all Apparated to a sunny patch of beach on a lake. The beach itself didn't go far up the land, and quickly turned to grass. The sand was shielded from outside view by bushes that grew on either side. Mrs. Weasley sat down on a log, and Hermione sat down in a chair, which she produced from her bag, and took out a book.

"Aren't you coming in?" Ron asked.

"I'm almost to the climax in my book," Hermione said, as the book sprang open in her hands.

"Just come in for a little bit?" Ginny asked.

"Maybe."

Harry, Ron, and George took off their shirts, and Ginny, to Harry's amazement, Transfigured her dress into a one-piece bathing suit. The others rushed in, splashing and laughing in the water, but Harry stayed behind. The water looked so dark and cold… who knew how deep it was. Harry certainly didn't want to find out.

"Come on!" Ron called, and Harry had no choice but to wade in.

Harry realized that his heart was hammering as he stepped in, but there was no need for that. He could touch the bottom, after all, and wouldn't go any deeper than he could. _But there can be drop-offs,_ whispered a voice in the back of his head. _Or worse, Infe-_ Harry screamed. There was something slimy and wet wrapped around his ankle, and it felt all too similar to a hand, trying to drag him down.

And then he was back in that moment, Dumbledore was on a tiny island, sure to die of poisoning, the locket would be lost forever, and he would drown. He couldn't do anything to fight them off, and the utter fear that encased him only grew. He was going down, down, down, under the water, a lake so deep there was no end. He would never get to the surface again, never see Ron, Hermione, or Ginny ever again…

"Harry? Are you okay?" Ginny stood a little ways off, looking mildly concerned.

"I'm fine," he said, pulling himself back to reality. There was no island, no poison, no locket, and no Inferi. "I got stuck on a water plant, and it surprised me. That's all."

He waded in the rest of the way, and while Ron and George accepted his excuse immediately, he could tell that Ginny hadn't. But she didn't say anything about it, and soon they were splashing each other happily.

"I think I'm gonna go talk to Hermione," Ginny said, when she had called a break. She walked back onto the land, dried herself, and turned her bathing suit back into a dress.

Within minutes the two were talking and laughing, and Mrs. Weasley even joined in for a while. Harry watched Ginny as she giggled over something Hermione had said, and though he couldn't quite see it from this distance, he knew her deep brown eyes would be lit up and sparkling with joy.

"Oi! Harry!" Ron splashed him heartily. "What are you- Are you staring at my sister?"

"We should probably eat lunch now," he said in response.

"Nice try. I expect an answer sooner or later."

"Let's go eat. C'mon, George!" The three made their way to the shore, dried themselves off, and had the picnic set up quickly.

As they all sat around the blanket, Harry noticed that Ginny had sat down closer to him than she would have last week. The lemonade he had brought was greatly enjoyed, in addition to butterbeer that Hermione had brought. Mrs. Weasley had packed an abundance of sandwiches, fruit, and cookies, so that by the time they were done eating, everyone was stuffed.

"We should probably leave now," Hermione said, glancing at her watch.

"Let's stay just a while longer," suggested Ron. "It won't take us long to do, anyways."

Hermione sighed as a way of giving in, and picked up her book.

"Where's your bookmark?" Ron asked her, pointing to where it should have been.

"I don't need one. See?" Hermione tapped the cover with her fingers, and the book sprang open to the page she was last on.

"Brilliant!" said Ron. "How do you do that?"

"I don't really know, I've been doing that since I was six."

"Since you were six? That's a crazy amount of control for a six-year-old."

"Not the first time I did it."

Hermione and Ron continued with their conversation, which gave Harry plenty of time to talk to Ginny.

"What was your fight with Ron about?" he asked her.

"I'd had a nightmare, and he was being insensitive," she said simply, not quite meeting his eye. "I haven't had that nightmare since second year," she added quietly. "But now it keeps coming back. At least now I don't have any flashbacks." She smiled at Harry. "You probably have no idea what I'm talking about."

"Try lucid dreaming," he said. "For the nightmares. It helps."

"You've had nightmares too?"

"Just a few."

"And when you were caught on the water plant?"

"I had a flashback. Stupid Inferi."

"Harry, we really need to leave now!"

He turned to Ginny. "Well, bye, I'll see you on Friday."

"Good-bye," she said, and gave him a kiss on the cheek before he turned away.

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 **Thank you for reading! This chapter has now taken the place as longest chapter, with a word count 1831. ragsweas, house-elves next chapter, and Teddy's visiting on Friday. Cassandra30, thank you for reviewing. I hope this chapter wasn't too quickly paced, but I had a lot of ideas. I'm looking to the books as a judge of how much romance to include in this story, please let me know if you think it gets to too much. Please review, as always.**


	13. Lucy

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine**

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Harry, Ron, and Hermione had decided to walk a little ways away before Apparating, and now appeared at the edge of a grove of trees.

"We'll just Apparate to Hogsmeade, and then walk to Hogwarts," Hermione had explained. "Because you-"

"Can't Apparate or Disapparate inside Hogwarts," Harry and Ron had chorused. "We know, Hermione."

Now, however, Harry realised something.

"Shouldn't we change into robes?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah," said Hermione. "Meet you at Hogsmeade in five minutes?"

"Sure," said Ron, and the Apparated their separate ways.

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Having gone straight to his bedroom, Harry lost no time at all in pulling on his black robes. He swept around the room, stuffing his pockets with anything he might need: his wand, his new D.A. coin, a quill and ink, and a small vial of silver liquid that rested on his bookshelf.

He Disapparated away with a _CRACK_ , and found himself just outside Honeydukes. Ron was sitting on a nearby bench, and Harry went to join him. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione appeared with a second loud _CRACK_.

"Let's go, then," she said brightly. Ron stood up, and the three made their way through Hogsmeade ignoring the usual stares. It was surprisingly quiet as they made their way up the path taken by the carriages every year, which gave Harry an odd feeling of suspense.

"This is where the wards start," Hermione said. "But we've got permission, so don't worry."

They fell silent after that, and walked for several minutes, the whoosh of the wind the only noise. The silence was once again slightly eerie, and Harry found himself wishing someone would say something.

"Why'd Ginny kiss you?" Ron demanded abruptly.

"Why does it matter?" Harry asked, completely surprised by his question.

"Oh, I dunno, she's my sister," said Ron. Hermione sighed at this, clearly exasperated. "Anyway," continued Ron. "She told me you two had an agreement."

"Yeah, that we weren't going to start dating again until things had been rebuilt."

"I wouldn't exactly call this rebuilt."

"Hogwarts is five days from being finished, the monument is going to be done in two weeks, and George reopened the shop," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "It's rebuilt."

"The war ended four months ago! You shouldn't be dating my sister."

"Ron," said Hermione quietly. "You know very well that the last thing Ginny needs is you not letting Harry date her, especially after she's just started thinking he might actually like her!"

"It's about her nightmares, isn't it?"

"Nightmare. One recurring nightmare."

"It's only one?" Harry interrupted.

"She told you about them?"

"Not what it's about."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully, then turned back to Ron. "Besides, Ginny wouldn't listen to you anyway."

"Alright, then. But you better not hurt her," Ron growled at Harry.

"I won't," said Harry quickly. He could see Ron's hand beginning to creep to his pocket, where he no doubt kept his wand, and he didn't fancy having his face hexed off.

Ron set his face determinedly forwards, and didn't talk again until they had reached the gate. Hermione pulled out her wand, muttered some sort of a password, and the gate swung open to admit them.

Several people were set around the courtyard, Levitating large stones and performing different charms. Hannah Abbot stood next to a large stone, directing several members to perform certain tasks, and some of them headed into the Forest for materials. A large dust cloud puffed up from the middle of the grounds as someone dropped a stone, and Hermione started coughing.

"I'm okay," she said once the coughing had subsided. "Let's get inside."

They walked into the part of the castle that was completely finished, and Hermione led the way to Professor McGonagall's office. She was waiting for them at the stone gargoyles, and nodded her head, spoke the password, and gestured for them to step onto the moving staircase when they arrived.

"The memories are in that closet," she told them. "And there's the Pensieve. Do you need anything else?"

"Actually…" Harry stared up at the portraits lining the walls. Phineas Nigellus looked down haughtily, Professor Dippet and several other feigned sleep, and Dumbledore's bright blue eyes twinkled at him from above. But one portrait, which Harry was sure should have been up by then, seemed to be missing. "Where's Snape?"

Hermione gave Ron and I-told-you-so look, which Harry chose to ignore, and Professor McGonagall's eyebrows disappeared under her hat. "Well, they weren't going to put one up," she explained. "Because he was head for less than a year."

"And that entire time he was risking his life."

"I'm sorry, Potter, but it seems as though many people from the Ministry think it's a bad idea to add him to the wall."

"You should," said Harry, and it didn't escape his notice that Hermione looked extremely relieved he wasn't making a bigger deal about this.

"Well, then," said McGonagall. "I suppose you ought to get to work." She stepped toward the doorway, then paused and turned to look at Harry. "And feel free to use the Pensieve," she added.

Harry's heart began to thud in his chest. There was no way she knew what memory he had in his pocket, was there? No, there couldn't be. If she knew what it was then she would know he had no intention of looking at it. He simply wanted to leave it here.

Hermione opened the cabinet door and began to scan the vials, looking for Slughorn's.

"Here," said Harry, handing it to her. It bore the label _Horace Slughorn, 1943._

"How do we get rid of it?" Ron asked.

"Like this." Hermione opened the vial and poured its contents into the Pensieve. She began waving her wand in a complicated motion.

She continued the pattern of two minutes, muttering under her breath the whole time, and still Harry could see no difference in the memory. Finally, with one last flick of her wrist, the contents of the Pensieve vanished.

While Ron and Hermione examined the Pensieve for any pieces of the memory, Harry took his chance. He extracted the vial from his pocket, and held it out in front of him. He waved his wand, and a label appeared. _Harry Potter, October 31, 1981._ He placed it carefully into a slot in the cabinet, and returned to his original spot just as Hermione and Ron decided the Pensieve was completely empty.

"Should we just leave now?" asked Ron.

"Yes, I think we should," Hermione said. She walked over to close the cabinet doors, and as she did, she gave Harry most peculiar look. She must have seen the memory, but she didn't say anything about it.

They walked down the corridors in renewed silence, and Harry was about to say something when they were greeted by an odd sight. A group of house-elves were gathered at the top of the marble staircase, all crowded around one thing.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked them.

"A new house-elf is just came, miss," said one of them.

"She is very needing bath, miss," said another.

"She is free."

"Naughty house-elf, to be freed," muttered one. "Naughty, naughty, house-elf."

"Kreacher!" demanded Harry. The muttering elf looked up. Kreacher had been sent by Harry to work at Hogwarts, and clearly he had forgotten a command before he did so. "You are to stop all the muttering."

"Yes, sir," said Kreacher.

"Now, let me see the new elf." They all stepped back to reveal a small, shivering elf with her long ear pressed tightly to her head. She was, indeed, very dirty, and so was the old and worn green knit scarf she had around her neck.

"What's your name?" Ron said.

"Lucy," she whispered.

"How did you get here?" said Harry.

"I is a Hogwarts elf, but then I is told to hide until safety is come back. So I is hiding, and I is reading the papers, and I is staying aways for some almost twenty years, and then I sees that now is safe, so I comes back. But Hogwarts is all down on ground, and I says I can't go in now, no, no, I can't. So I is waiting in forest, and then I sees you come, and you is in the paper, sir, so I is just coming to see if safe, and now is safe!"

"Who freed you?" asked Hermione.

Lucy shrugged sadly.

"Tell me something about Hogwarts, then. Before you went to hide."

"I is not remembering anything, miss."

"Nothing at all?"

"No, miss."

"Obliviated," Hermione breathed softly. "Someone's Obliviated her. But why on earth?"

"If she knew something…" Ron suggested.

"Then you could just command her not to tell!"

"Not unless you weren't a student or staff at the time," said Hermione. "But then how would she have been freed?"

"Anyone can free a Hogwarts elf, miss. As long as they are at Hogwarts grounds, miss," said one of the shorter elves.

Hermione frowned. "It still doesn't make sense… What do you remember after being Obliviated?"

"I is walking away, miss, and there is pumpkins," said Lucy.

"So… it was in the fall?"

"I thinks so, miss."

"Hmm…"

Just then, Professor McGonagall came up, looking worried as she came up the staircase.

"Oh my," she said. "Well, I suppose we can sort this out. Ms. Granger, are you finished?"

"Yes, we are," Hermione said, smiling.

"I'll see you in September," she said, and gestured to the elves to follow her back down the marble staircase.

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 **Thank you for reading! There will be a letter next week, I promise. Cassandra30, ragsweas, and Aithne, thank you for your reviews. Teddy is coming soon, and more Sirius interaction. Please review!**


	14. The First Picture

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine.**

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Thursday morning, Harry received an owl from the Ministry that was telling him when Auror training would begin, and was pleased to find it wasn't until after Hogwarts started. (This was because many of the Auror-to-be were helping to finish the Hogwarts grounds). But that wasn't the letter that Harry had been looking forward to reading. It was his parents' that was more important to him.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Merry Christmas!_ _ **We just realized we forgot something with the last letter.**_ _We were going to give you a picture of Tiara._ _ **So now it should be in the envelope.**_

Harry looked inside the envelope and out came the picture. A red-haired, green-eyed woman held a calico cat up the camera, and several old toys were scattered on the floor. She was sitting on the carpet just in front of a gray couch. The cat was struggling, and his mum was laughing as she held her tight. Tiara almost escaped, but Lily caught her just in time. She was wearing her long hair up in a ponytail, and had a scarf the color of her eyes wrapped around her neck. Harry felt like he could have stared at the photo all day, watching his mum laugh as she held onto the cat. He turned back to the letter to continue reading it, but-

 _CRACK!_ A house-elf Harry didn't recognize Apparated right next to him, and said, almost lazily, "Hermione Granger says I is to take you to Gryffindor common room." He grabbed Harry's arm and Apparated him away, Harry just barely managing to drop the letter.

"Thank you," said Hermione sweetly. She was sitting in a chair next to the fire with parchment and books scattered in front of her on the table. The elf left, and Hermione turned to Harry. "Ron's coming too," she said. Sure enough, Ron arrived with a second elf after she said that.

"What is it?" he grumbled.

"I've been doing some spells," she said, gesturing to the array books. "And I think Lucy was Obliviated between 1979 and 1982." She paused, as though expecting them to say something.

"That's great," said Ron. "Is there anything else?"

"Do we know anyone who would have been at Hogwarts then?"

"Tonks?" Harry suggested.

"Bill?" asked Ron.

"They would've just been first years in 1982."

"What about teachers?" said Ron.

"Why don't we just call her in here?" Harry said.

"Lucy?" called Hermione. A moment later, Lucy came, now fully clothed and clean. She was still wearing her scarf, however, and Harry thought it looked a little familiar. He shook this thought out of his mind, and listened to Hermione.

"Did you see any students or teachers on your way out of Hogwarts?" Hermione asked.

The elf screwed up her face in concentration. "I is walking," she said slowly. "And I is seeing no-one -" Ron groaned "- except for one man."

"Go on," said Hermione.

"He is staring down hall."

"Can you describe him?"

"He is teacher." She thought again. "He is not looking happy. He is wanting something. Job, I is knowing."

"You remember something?!" Ron exclaimed.

"No, Ron," said Hermione gently. "When something happens often enough, it can be hard for it to be fully erased. And she was Obliviated in a hurry."

"He is one who yells. Dumbledore is liking him, though. Even though he is yelling. He is being good."

"Do you know anything else?" Harry asked. "Hair color?"

"He is having black hair, I is thinking." Lucy paused. "I is needing to go to kitchens now," she said, and she walked back out of the common room.

"That's great!" said Ron. "Just leave as soon as you start giving us useful information, will you?"

"That's really helpful, actually," said Hermione, flipping through the biggest book.

"What's that?" asked Harry.

"Record of staff." She turned the pages. "Only one black-haired man was hired in the three years."

"Who?" asked Harry.

"Professor Snape," said Hermione. "He was hired in 1981."

"I just wish we had a portrait of him to talk to," said Harry. "That'd be really helpful."

"They're putting one up soon, don't worry about it," said Hermione, sounding slightly exasperated.

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Harry sat back in his chair at Grimmauld Place. His mind seemed to be racing with possibilities about Lucy, even though all he wanted to do was finish the letter. He picked it up and started where he had left off.

 _ **When do you learn Accio?** Fourth year. **Oh, what does it matter? Accio's the Summoning Charm, Harry, and it's very useful. If you point your wand at snow, say "Accio," and move your wrist in a circle, it creates the perfect snowball. Then all you have to do is hurl it at someone with your wand.** Maybe you should master Accio normally first, though, otherwise you could get hurt. _

_**Have I mentioned not to take Divination?** It's too late for that, James. **Sorry.**_

 _Merry Christmas, Harry. We love you,_

 _Mum & Dad_

Harry leaned back in his chair. He would have to try that when it started snowing again.

He rose from the chair and wandered around the house, Summoning and Transfiguring what he needed for Teddy's visit tomorrow. When at last he had set up the cradle, he went back to his own room.

He sank into his bed and opened the copy of _Advanced Defensive Spells_ Hermione had gotten him for his birthday. It included multiple spells and counter-jinxes Harry had never heard of before, and all too often, Harry caught himself pinpointing the exact spell that could have saved someone. In fact, as Harry read about spell that slowed down quickly falling objects and explosions, he realized that it was the one that could have saved Fred.

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 **Thank you for reading! I know this chapter is really short (and so is the letter), and I'm sorry if that bothers you. However, Teddy is coming next chapter, so that should make some of you happy (that's what it seems like from the reviews). Aithne, ragsweas, and Cassandra30, thanks for the reviews! Gime'SS, you're welcome! delia, I'm glad you're interested in my story, but there will be Hinny in it. Thank you again for reading, and please review!**


	15. Teddy

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine.**

* * *

"Sirius!" Harry called in front of the empty portrait. "Teddy's here!"

Sirius appeared in his frame, smiling. "Hi Teddy, hi Harry!" he said. "I was just over at Andromeda's, I saw you picking him up."

Teddy giggled happily, and his hair slowly changed color. It turned from bright blues to bubblegum pink and his face was lit with joy.

"Tonks' color!" said Sirius with his bark-like laugh.

"It means he likes you." Teddy giggled again, but even as he did, his hair turned green. "I think he's hungry," said Harry. He'd seen that color before, and from what he could tell, that's what it meant.

As Harry rushed off to feed Teddy before he started crying, he heard Sirius call after him. _Oh well,_ he thought. _He has a portrait in the living room if he really wants to talk to me._ But Sirius didn't appear in the living room portrait.

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Two hours, one bottle, three diapers, and an endless amount of toys later, it was 11:00. Naptime.

"Alright, let's go," said Harry, scooping Teddy away from the toy Hippogriff he had been playing with. The Hippogriff flapped its wings and trotted back to the pile of other moving figures next to the chair. Teddy, however, did not seem happy with this idea. Harry watched in slight horror as his preciously pink hair began to deepen in color - red.

And then teddy let out as loud a scream as he could, which was quite loud, and all the figurines scurried for cover.

"It's just a nap," said Harry hurriedly, trying to calm the wailing baby. "No! No, don't do that!" For Teddy had reached for Harry's glasses now, grabbing at his face. He put Teddy onto the sofa, then went and took his wand from the table. " _Silencio!_ " Plenty of people thought that using magic on a baby wasn't good, but Harry didn't often, so he thought it was okay.

Harry took the still wailing Teddy into his arms and started the journey upstairs to his room, where he had set up the crib. He laid the baby into the crib, and waited; Teddy didn't take long to fall asleep once he was in bed. Harry watched as the red drained from his hair, replaced with a brown not unlike Lupin's had been - his natural hair color. He stood there for a few minutes, smiling sadly and wondering what Tonks and Lupin would say if they could see this.

He eventually had to stop doing this however; he had things to do. He read through the Ministry owl in full, which gave him the exact time, place, and dates of Auror training, and the protocol for sick days. Once finished, he glanced over at Teddy, who was still asleep. Deciding this was well enough, he took out the next letter.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Happy Birthday!_ _ **This is for his 14th, right?**_ _Yes._ _ **I remember 4th year rather vividly.**_ _It was the year you wouldn't stop bugging me._ _ **I thought that was every year until 7th.**_ _4th especially, though._ _ **Which story this time?**_ _I was thinking when he first started walking…_

 _ **We'd been trying to get you to walk for a while, along with Moony, Padfoot, and Wormtail.**_ _You just… didn't want to, I think. You were standing up and everything, crawling around, just not walking._ _ **The Marauders had just left; we'd been trying to teach you how to walk again. You turn to me and say "Where Foof?" I told you he'd just left, but you said "Where Foof?" again. You'd crawled over to me by now, but it was bedtime and so Mum was about to take you upstairs.**_ _I asked you to come to where I was, expecting you to crawl. But you got up, and walked over._ _ **Sirius was so disappointed he'd missed it.**_ _We immediately forgot bedtime and spent the next fifteen minutes trying to take pictures of you walking._ _ **Here's the best one we got.**_

Indeed, when Harry turned the envelope upside down, it was to find another picture. A baby walked back and forth between his parents, who were both cheering him on enthusiastically. James had his wand pointed at the camera, as though performing a spell to take the picture, and Lily had her arms open wide. She was wearing, yet again, the bright-green scarf Harry thought he had seen somewhere else.

Teddy chose this time to wake up, making a small fuss over where he was laying. Harry thus had to disregard the letter for the time being, and go back to caring for Teddy. As he carried a green-haired Teddy back into the kitchen, he glanced at the clock. It was 11:30. He had 30 minutes until his date with Ginny.

Once Teddy had eaten and been burped, Harry began his frantic rushing around to be ready for his date and to clean everything.

"Accio toys!" The toys flew toward Harry from all directions, bouncing off his body and landing in a pile around his feet. Teddy watched, intrigued as Harry proceeded to bend down and put the toys into a bag by hand.

Ten minutes later, Harry having cleaned as much as he could, he went back upstairs to change. He chose casual Muggle clothes; they were, after all, only going to London to walk around. He stuffed a handful of Muggle money into his pocket (he always made sure to have a decent amount), and cleaned his stood in front of a mirror, attempted to flatten his hair, and gave up within an instant.

At 12:00 sharp, Harry Apparated to Andromeda's house, holding Teddy in one hand, and his bag in the other.

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 **Thanks for reading! ragsweas, Cassandra30, delia, and Gime'SS, thank you for your reviews. Capecodcanal, I'm glad you're liking the letters! Thank you everyone for over 50 reviews, it means a lot.**


	16. The Date

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

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Harry Apparated to the Burrow at 12:15, which was earlier than he had hoped. He was relieved when he saw that Ginny had also worn semi-casual Muggle clothes, seeing as he hadn't planned on going anywhere formal. The freckles that dotted her nose and cheeks had been accentuated by the sun on Wednesday, and her hair seemed to glow.

"How are we getting there?" Ginny asked brightly once they had stepped away from the front door. Harry froze. He had no idea how they were going to get there.

"It's fine, there's an Apparation point by the Leaky Cauldron." Ginny took Harry's hand in her own, much more gently than she had done recently. In a moment, they were whisked away and found themselves in an alleyway just around the corner from the Leaky Cauldron. Ginny let go of his hand, and Harry felt his stomach drop in what seemed to be disappointment.

They came out of the alley and turned away from the Leaky Cauldron.

"Too bad we can't go to Diagon Alley," Ginny said.

"Yeah, I was planning on getting a new broom soon, too."

"Once you do, can you teach me some Seeker moves?"

"Of course," said Harry. "But why Seeker moves? Aren't you a Chaser?"

"I am, but I don't think whoever I find for Seeker will be nearly as good as you, so…" She trailed off with a nervous laugh.

"Whoever you find?" Harry repeated.

"I'm Captain."

"I should've guessed." Harry laughed inwardly, imagining what would happen to anyone unfortunate enough to shake her hand before a game. "And of course I'll teach you Seeker moves."

As they laughed and talked, Harry felt the awkwardness slip away from the conversation, flirtatious as it was. It was certainly better than his date with Cho, and had a different feel that ones they'd gone on in his sixth year.

"Want to eat here?" Ginny asked, pointing to a restaurant just up the street.

"Sure."

They stepped into the restaurant, which was thankfully not too crowded, and were immediately seated. They both read the menu, and were completely silent for several minutes. The uncomfortableness began to grow, and Harry felt the need to break the silence. But he soon found this job taken, when Ginny opened her mouth to say something.

"Mum says I need to be home by five."

"Ok…"

"But Ron's gonna go ballistic when he finds out we actually are dating."

"Do you know why?"

"Well, think about it. You're his best friend, and I'm his sister. If we have some really bad breakup, he's afraid you're not going to want anything to do with me, including our family."

"But that doesn't make any sense. Why would I stop talking to him if I stop talking to you? Not that I would, of course," he added hurriedly.

"Aren't you in a similar situation, though? What happens if Ron and Hermione breakup? Do you really think they'd be able to do it peacefully? And then you'd have to choose between them. It'd be really hard."

Harry's eyes widened. A newfound fear had just encased him. What if they did breakup? Then what? Ginny was right, he'd probably have to choose who to stay friends with. "How long do you think they'll be dating?" he asked.

"Knowing Hermione, about two or three years."

"Only that long? Why?"

"Hermione won't want to get married until she's got a job of some sort," Ginny said, as nonchalantly as though she was mentioning that she'd been shopping. "Though she might settle for a long engagement…"

"Yeah," said Harry nervously. Them getting married… it was a weird thought, and not one his mind had run through before.

"Oh look, the food's here."

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The rest of the date passed light-hearted and fun, and Harry soon found that he had stopped worrying about if he'd said the wrong thing. They talked about Quidditch, about how Ginny was going back to Hogwarts, and even about Auror training for awhile. Harry was once again reminded of his date with Cho, and how utterly different this one was. He even found it slightly more relaxed than his previous dates with Ginny, and eventually came to the conclusion that it was because they were older.

"I should probably be going home now," Ginny said, frowning, and the cars on the street grew thicker with people returning to their homes for the evening.

"You should," Harry agreed, sounding reluctant.

They walked back towards the Apparation point, and it was only then that Harry decided to hold her hand (something he admittedly should have done sooner). They passed the Leaky Cauldron, from which issued a small trickle of day shoppers, and turned into the alley. Ginny Apparated them a distance away from the Burrow, so that they had a short way more to walk.

They stopped about thirty feet from the Burrow, and Ginny gave Harry a most peculiar look. He wonder what that meant for a moment before it dawned on him: she wanted him to kiss her. Just as Harry was debating how he should go about completing such an action, a flash a light flared from the kitchen window.

"What was that?" asked Ginny, her face transformed into one of fear. "That looked like a curse. Do you think anyone's hurt?" Without waiting for an answer, she took off towards the door, leaving Harry to catch up.

"What's the matter?" she asked, bursting in through the door.

Mrs. Weasley stood stock-still next to the stove, looking thoroughly shocked. Ron was sitting at the table with parchment and quill near him, his mouth open.

"He just - and he - and now -" Ron stammered pointing to several broken plates lying on the ground.

"Something went wrong." Mrs. Weasley's affirmative voice scared Harry; she hardly ever sounded so serious. "Ginny, go upstairs and see if you can get George to talk to you. Ron, help me get ready for dinner. Harry, if you want to stay-"

"I'm okay, Mrs. Weasley," he said, and turned to leave despite his instinct to stay and fight if necessary. Before he left, however, he sent Ron a look that clearly said, _Tell me what happened later._

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 **Sorry about the late update. I was busy. Hope you liked the Hinny fluff. Slight twist at the end... what do you think happened? Cassandra30, Gimme'SS, thanks for your reviews. ragsweas, I'll try to include more chats with Sirius. Thanks for reading, and please review!**


	17. The Green Scarf

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

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Early the next morning, as Harry sat eating his breakfast, green flames erupted in the fireplace. Ron stepped out, and Harry quickly made a second cup of tea. Ron sat down next to Harry, who prompted him to begin talking immediately.

"Okay, so Mum's making dinner and I'm writing a letter to Charlie, right? And then George comes in (mind you, he's been living in the flat above the shop since he disappeared), so Mum starts asking him what's wrong; she was really worried, of course, he was really upset. And Mum's trying to get him to talk, but he wouldn't. And then he broke the dishes she was holding. I think he got annoyed or something, I dunno.I think Ginny was able to get it out of him, but I'm not sure."

A second burst of green flame came out of the fireplace and Ginny arrived, brushing soot out of her hair as she climbed through.

"Hi Harry. I actually did get George to talk. Apparently, he was making Skiving Snackboxes and something went wrong. He's not sure what, but there was an explosion. Bottom line is that he wants to quit. No joke shop. No pranks. No inventing."

"But he can't stop," said Harry. "I mean, he's hired people and everything. The shop's doing great. It was just one small mistake, I'm sure he can fix it."

"One small mistake?" Ginny asked sadly. She sat down in the chair across from Ron and slumped onto the table, her face in her hands. "It's the recipe," she said, after a moment's pause. "It's very exact, very fast paced. The timing has to be perfect. He showed me the parchment. Some ingredients have to be put in one after the other, but the second prepared only seconds before it's added. It takes two people to make."

There was a heavy silence as her words sunk in, broken only by the third eruption of green flames in the fireplace. Hermione stepped out this time, looking worried and holding a magazine in her hand.

"Mrs. Weasley said you two had come over here," she said, as though that explained everything. "I was just at Diagon Alley and noticed the shop's not open. Is there something wrong?"

They all nodded, and Ginny and Ron re-explained the entire unheartening situation.

"Oh no," said Hermione. "We've got to convince him to go back."

"We can't just convince him to go back," Ginny said, shaking her head. "It'll take at least a week for him to even want to leave the Burrow again."

"It's better than last time," Ron said, giving a slight shrug, and they rest nodded in agreement. Much to everyone's surprise, George had not completely isolated himself after the battle, but instead had certain set-offs that would cause him to refuse to do anything for awhile. The lengths were unpredictable and the severity of the reaction didn't often match what had caused it. The worse of these had been just after the war, when he'd hardly done anything for three weeks, and just before he'd gone missing and started living in the flat above the shop again, he'd had another bout that lasted two weeks.

"We should still go talk to him," said Hermione, but as she said this, Ginny began shaking her head furiously.

"That'll only make it worse. He's already talked about it once, we need to give him a break. From the looks of it, the shop's big enough of a commitment for him to have to return eventually. It might even be less than week before he goes back."

At this point, Harry realised that everyone was sipping tea expect Hermione, and stood up to get her a cup. Hermione saw this and followed Harry into the kitchen. As he poured the tea she held to magazine out to him. It was _Witch Weekly._ With mild curiosity, he scanned the front page.

"Just thought you ought to know," she said, gesturing toward the bottom-left corner. It featured a picture of him and Ginny walking past the Leaky Cauldron, holding hands. Someone must have been looking out the window and snapped the photo, judging by the grime that obscured part of the moving image.

"At least we can go to Diagon Alley," said Harry, shrugging.

"Ginny might not take it so well, just so know," said Hermione, and she took the mug from Harry, and they exited the kitchen.

"What's this?" asked Ginny politely pointing to the far corner of the table, where Harry had left the picture of Lily with the cat.

"My parents left a few pictures with the letters," he told Ron and Hermione, then explained what he'd found to Ginny, something he'd forgotten to do the day before. He passed the photo to them, and they all gave a small laugh at the humoring scene.

"That scarf looks really good on her," Ginny commented.

"I feel like I've seen it before," said Hermione.

"Me too," Harry admitted. "I just don't know where."

"Oh, woah. Hi everyone." Sirius had appeared in his portrait, grinning down at them from the wall. "What's going on?"

Harry told Sirius about the pictures and held up the photo.

"I remember that scarf! James gave it to her for Christmas in seventh year. She wore all the time. Such a shame when she lost it, though. I think it was when they were still discussing who to be Secret Keeper," he added, with a hint of bitterness in his voice at the distant mention of Wormtail.

"Maybe someone found and you've seen them wearing it," Ginny suggested. Hermione, however did not seem to have heard her.

"Hogwarts…? I don't think so. Where else?"

Hogwarts… that's where Harry had seen that scarf before. "Lucy!" he exclaimed. "Lucy has a green scarf just like that!"

"Her scarf is green?" asked Ron. "It's so dirty I could hardly tell."

"There must be hundreds of scarves like it, though," said Sirius.

"But it all fits so well," argued Hermione.

"It's still worth finding out. Kreacher?" The elf Apparated with a _CRACK_ and bowed to Harry. "I want you to take the elf Lucy to St. Mungo's to see if her memory can be recovered. Do you understand?"

"Master is wishing that Lucy is remembering and Kreacher is having to take her to St. Mungo's," he repeated dutifully.

"And one more thing," Harry added before the elf could leave. "Make sure they know I'm paying." He might not enjoy being famous, and certainly did not enjoy abusing his power, but he wasn't entirely sure if house-elves were allowed at St. Mungo's, and thought it best to give the healers more incentive.

"I have to leave," said Ron, standing up. "But I'll see you later." It was Saturday again, so the three were going to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch.

"I do too. Bye Harry, see at lunch," Hermione said cheerfully, already scooping Floo into her hand. Once they were gone, Harry turned to Ginny. He held out the magazine that Hermione had left and let her see the cover.

"Now you won't want to date me," she said sadly, drooping.

"Why do you think that? And don't tell me what you did yesterday, you didn't look like you believed it."

Ginny seemed to droop even lower, though Harry doubted that it was possible.

"It's the nightmares," she said through a sigh. "You'd think it'd be something from the actual war, the Battle of Hogwarts, but no!" She waved an exasperated hand in the air. "It has to be from the stupid Chamber of Secrets!"

Harry placed his hand on her shoulder in what he hoped was a consoling manner. He too had experienced the teenage Voldemort. He was oddly charming by character and far too easy to believe. Though he didn't know what he had said to her, he could imagine it.

"He just kept saying, again and again, 'He won't come back. Harry Potter won't come back.' But you proved him wrong. You did come back. Again, and again, and again. Harry Potter always comes back. And you know what? I'm gonna figure out this whole lucid dreaming thing and hex off his face next time he tries to sneak in." She drained the last of her tea and stood up. "I should probably leave too."

"Want to go to Diagon Alley on Monday?" Harry asked, catching his chance while he still could.

"Oh, sure." She turned to the fireplace, but as Harry was standing right there, she bumped into him. She stopped walking, but did not back away, and Harry found himself mere inches from her, their toes almost touching. With little else to do, he wrapped her into an awkward embrace that lasted a few seconds too long. As Ginny made to walk around him, he pulled his arms around her once more, causing their faces to become level.

"Thank's for telling me," he said. She studied him for a moment, as though deciding what course of action to take. Then, with little warning, she closed the distance between their faces and kissed him. She pulled away too quickly for Harry to fully respond, leaving him bewildered but pleased.

"That was for yesterday," she said, before being swept away in a swirl of green flames.

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"It took you soooo long to pick up on that," said Sirius, for what seemed to be the hundredth time. As soon as Ginny had left, Harry had endured a full lecture about every single thing he had done wrong. "She clearly bumped into you on purpose."

"You've already said that."

"Maybe I should give you lessons."

"Please don't."

"There are several ways girls communicate that they want to kiss. The least likely option is, of course, verbal, because that can come off as desperate. Therefore, most girls refer to body language such as…"

"I'm going to read the next letter now," Harry called over his shoulder as he set off for his room.

"I'm up here, too," Sirius reminded Harry as he walked through the door.

"That can easily be remedied." Harry pulled the canvas off the wall and walked back into the hallway.

"No! Wait! Where are you taking me? I'll stop talking, okay?"

"Thank you," said Harry, turning back into his room and replacing the portrait. He took the top letter from the stack and quickly counted the remaining envelopes. There were eight.

 _Dear Harry,  
_ _Merry Christmas!_ _ **You're halfway done with Hogwarts!**_ _Which means you really have to pay attention in class now. The second half is more important, what with OWLs and NEWTs._

 _ **Don't forget about the snowball thing.**_ _It is pretty cool. As long as you don't make a giant snowball with it._ _ **I didn't do that on purpose!**_ _I'm not saying you did. I'm just saying that you should recognize how heavy it is and not throw it at someone._ _ **You were fine.**_ _Physically, yes, but emotionally? I'll never look at a snow drift the same way._ _ **And I'll never look at a lily the same way again.**_ _You're right, you feel the unnecessary need to bring one home anytime you see it, even though you know I'm allergic to pollen._ _ **It's kind of ironic…**_ _No, it's not. I shouldn't have to take the potion in the middle of winter because of you randomly conjuring them in the front yard to_ _ **add a touch of color. It looks nice.**_ _My nasal passageways would beg to differ._ _**I'm sure they would. Oh wait, we're still writing this letter.**_ _You forgot?_ _ **It is just like a normal conversation.**_ _It is._

 _ **We love you, Harry.**_ _Don't you ever forget that._

 _Love,_

 _Mum_ _ **& Dad**_

Harry looked up from the parchment, intrigued. Sirius was still in his portrait, dead silent for fear of being taken out of the room.

"Did my dad ever hit Mum with a giant snowball?" he asked. The letter certainly made it seem that way.

"Oh, yes," said Sirius jovially. "And just after she'd seen us first transform, too. It was quite funny." And Sirius recounted the story of how James had once tried to start a snowball fight by throwing one at Lily, but from a distance, which proved a mistake. "She woke up early and took his glasses the next morning, but James always had an extra pair somewhere, so he was fine," finished Sirius.

Harry studied the parchment again, rereading certain bits. Even though the charmed quill hadn't shown their laughter on the page, Harry could hear it clearly. The laugh in Lily's voice as she recalled the memories, James chuckling between phrases. It was all there, on the parchment, and Harry couldn't have asked for better presents.

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 **2,118 words! This is the longest chapter! Gime'SS and ragsweas, thanks for the reviews. delia, this chapter should have answered your questions. Thank you all for reading, and please review.**


	18. Lily's Message: Part I

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine.**

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Harry woke up on Sunday morning feeling groggy. His Saturday lunch with Ron and Hermione and gone uninterrupted, something he had not expected. He reached over and picked up the next letter. As he pulled out the parchment, he saw the faded, ink-run splotches of tears. He wondered who had been crying, and why. There was only one way to find out.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Happy fifteenth birthday. I know you're going into your O.W.L. year. Study hard for your exams. It's not quite as bad as you think, though, and once they're over you're pretty much free. Now, I know that I've been telling stories about you in these letters, but it's time you hear the story of my fifth year._

 _I'd been friends with the boy who first told me I was a witch since that day at the park, and even though he was in Slytherin we were still good friends. Sure, he was friends with people I didn't like, but I didn't have to talk to them. Back then, your dad and his friends teased him for his House, a little too much, really, and I didn't like them. So exams are just finished, and everyone goes outside. I'm by the lake with some of my friends, and your dad and his friends are at their spot by the tree. I'm just debating if I should wade in the water when I hear a whole lot of noise and shouting from where the tree is, which could only mean one thing - they're teasing him again. So I go over to try and stop them, and your dad and Sirius are yelling and jeering, and I shout my head off, and the entire school is watching, and he's hanging in a tree, and he just looks at me and he says- he says that- he calls me a- a- I was just trying to help, and then he- he-_

 _ **Lily? Lily, where are you? Oh, honey. You're writing the letter?And about this? Why didn't you wait for me?**_ _I- I thought I could do it._ _ **Hey, it's okay.**_ _H- he said it didn't m- matter before._ _ **He made his choice, and you can't do anything to stop that.**_ _You sure?_ _ **Or course I am.**_ _I don't know… maybe I could have changed him - made him not choose to follow that path. If I didn't stop talking to him…_ _ **Stop blaming yourself for everything, Lily. It all worked out in the end, didn't it?**_ _But I still wonder._ _ **He would have said something like that sooner or later, and it's probably best it happened when it did. Do you want me to finish the story?**_ _Yeah, you go ahead._

 _ **He called her a Mudblood, Harry. Don't you ever let anyone tell you that she's not smart because she's a Muggleborn, that she's not kind, or that she can't do magic. Did I get a lot of crap for being a "blood-traitor"? Yes. Did I care? Absolutely not. I had Lily.**_ _Thanks._

 _ **It sounds like Harry's awake. I'll go get him.**_ _Okay._ _ **And Lily? Just put the letter in the envelope, okay?**_ _Yeah._ _ **I love you.**_ _And I love you._

 _It was Snape. Snape said it. But it did work out in the end._

 _Love, Mum & Dad_

 _P.S. Tell him I said sorry._

Harry stared at the parchment. He'd had the inkling of a feeling that Lily would have felt bad about her reaction, but never imagined this much regret. His dad was right, it had not been Lily's fault, and the added note at the end seemed quite unnecessary. But nevertheless, it made Harry want more than ever for Snape's portrait to be hung, even if just for him to give Lily's message.

He sat there, as though he had been petrified, still staring at the parchment. Every time he'd seen the memory, he had felt his own rage at Snape's words, but now he felt his mother's sadness. To be betrayed by someone you thought was your friend…

But then if it had not happened. James and Lily would have still been head boy and girl, still would have fallen in love, he was sure of it. But Snape would not have become a Death Eater. Perhaps a different man would have overheard the prophecy, would have told Dumbledore, and then what? Dumbledore would have assumed that it was Neville whom Voldemort was after, not Harry. The Longbottoms would be put into hiding. And so, in some weird, slightly twisted way, it was almost good that Snape had called Lily a Mudblood. Almost…

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 **Thanks for reading! I know this is one of the shortest chapters for awhile, but I do like to vary chapter length, and couldn't bring myself to write anything even remotely unrelated to this letter. ragsweas and Gimme'SS thank you for your reviews. Boo, I'm glad you like my story. Please review!**


	19. Lily's Message: Part II

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, the creator of this amazing world.**

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Harry stood in front of his fireplace, considering. Would he be able to get through to Hogwarts? It was surely worth a try…

"Hogwarts!" he called, throwing in the Floo and standing in the flames. He felt the familiar spinning as he began to travel the network, and for a second he thought he would make it. But then the spinning stopped, and before he had time to register what was happening, he was thrown back into Grimmauld Place with a harsh jab from an enchantment. He fell out, covered in soot and finding his glasses broken.

" _Scourgify!_ " the soot vanished.

" _Reparo!_ " the glasses were fixed.

Harry slouched into the couch. He wouldn't be able to get through the gates, he knew that. So what next? Contact someone from the D.A? That seemed a little unnecessary. He had no sooner addressed this solution when the fireplace became lit with green once more. He waited apprehensively for someone to step through, but no one did. Voices drifted through from the traveler's fire, and Harry listened.

"Look, it's just Grimmauld Place, we don't need to check."

"Protocol is to check. If you can't follow such a simple procedure, I won't allow you to continue under Professor Sprout. Now, just go through the Floo and see who it is."

Interesting. The second voice had been McGonagall's, Harry was sure of that. But who was the first? This question was answered in matter of seconds as a robed figure emerged from the fireplace.

"Hi Harry," said Neville. "They've just closed the Floo yesterday, nearly all the D.A. work is finished. Why were you trying to get through?"

"I forgot to do something on Wednesday," he improvised. "I needed to go back and…" The feeble lie trailed off into silence.

"They've just put up Snape's portrait, if that's what you're on about," said Neville, who hadn't believed Harry's excuse for a minute.

Harry paused. "It is, actually," he said, deciding it better to leave the letter out of the conversation.

"Hey, Neville," Harry said, walking over to where the pictures lay. He held up the one of the cat. "You don't happen to recognize this cat, do you?"

Neville took the picture and examined it. "That looks like my grandma's cat. Her name was Tiara. We had to get of her when I was five. Isn't that your mum in the photo?"

"Yes. My parents used to have Tiara. Your mum named her. Then, when we went into hiding, they had to give her away. So-"

"My mum got her. And when she had to go to St. Mungo's… Harry, could I borrow this?"

"Why don't we just duplicate it? Here," he pointed his wand at the photo. " _Geminio!_ " He handed the second one to Neville.

"Now, can you take me through the Floo?"

"Oh, sure." They turned back to the still-green flames.

"You first," said Neville.

Harry stepped into the flames and soon found himself in Professor McGonagall's office.

"Potter," she said in tight-lipped greeting, though Harry thought he saw a smile threatening to overcome her face.

"Good day, Professor. Sorry for the fuss. I still have minimal knowledge of the wizarding world. Professor Binns can be quite the bore," he added in an undertone.

McGonagall considered for a moment. With no way of taking House points from him, she seemed at loss for a reaction to his words.. "Don't let me hear you insulting my teachers again," she said. "And your predicament can be solved. Seventh year never hurt anyone."

"I was under the impression that years one through six never hurt anyone before me, professor."

"Very well, then. I'll leave you to it." And with that, she left the room, Neville trailing behind her with a look of awe upon his face.

"Professor Snape, sir?" Harry asked tentatively, now turning his attention on the new portrait, whose occupant was sleeping. "Sir, can you hear me?"

"Of course I can hear, Potter. I have, as a matter of fact, heard every word you have said since stepping into this office. And I am entirely surprised Professor McGonagall did not kick you out for the things you said."

Harry shrugged. "I'm rather surprised I was able to even think them. Sir."

"Why is it you are here?"

"I have a message for you."

"From who?"

The next words seemed to stick to the back of Harry's throat. This was much more awkward than he had anticipated. "Lily."

"The dead cannot leave messages, Potter!" Snape was shouting: it seemed even the name stirred memories too painful to bear. "And if you are under such an illusion, I suggest seeking help at St. Mungo's!"

"It was in a letter," whispered Harry.

"A letter?" Snape was no doubt thinking of the one he had ripped.

"She said-" Harry's voice broke uncomfortably. "She said she was sorry."

"She need not be," said Snape solemnly. Tears were welling in the painted eyes.

"Sorry she never gave you a second chance."

"She forgave me?" The words were mere ghosts floating from his lips, spoken so soft Harry could hardly hear him.

"I think, professor, that she might have, if even in her last weeks alive." And Harry, knowing that he shouldn't stay longer, turned his back on the portrait and stepped toward the grate, reaching for the pot of Floo powder sitting on the mantle. As he turned back for one last look, a single tear trickled down the cheek of the old teacher.

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 **Thank you for reading! Cassandra30, thank you for the review. ragsweas, there will be six-eight more chapters (I may break what I plan on having as one chapter into two and could always add one more). I will not be including all the letters in this story. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please review.**


	20. Eri

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

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Harry paced the living room, waving his wand at the occasionally object to send it hurling across the room. Ginny would be Flooing over soon. He'd visited Gringotts to get money yesterday (giving his wand to a very bewildered Ernie Macmillan), and now had a full money sack stuffed into his robes. He would be getting a new owl soon. He would also be getting a new broom. But an owl? It somehow felt like he was betraying Hedwig. How dare he get a new owl? How dare he replace her? If he knew one thing, it was that he would _not_ be getting a snowy. And it would help, he thought, to get a male. Might seem less intrusive on his memories of Hedwig.

And after all, he did need an owl, especially if he and Ginny would be dating while she was away at Hogwarts. _He and Ginny were dating._ Ginny wasn't just the girl he used to date and then had to break up with; she was his girlfriend. Finding comfort in these thoughts, Harry sat down on the couch, his eyes firmly upon the fireplace.

The orange flames flickered with emerald light, and then Ginny stepped out. She was wearing black robes meant for Hogwarts, and had her hair in a long braid down her back.

"Good morning," she said brightly.

"Good morning," Harry responded. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. I didn't forget my broom, don't worry," she added, pulling from her pocket a broom that had been shrunk. She put away before Harry got a chance to look at it closely, but it looked like a new broom. "How've you been?"

"Great."

"Read any more letters?"

"Yeah." Harry didn't offer any more information, and Ginny didn't pry. Harry decided this was one of the things he liked about her. "How's George?"

"Pretty good. He's started coming out of his room this morning."

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Harry and Ginny Apparated directly to Diagon Alley, landing in one of the golden hoops.

"Let's go," said Ginny. She took Harry's hand and they made their way through the crowd of busy shoppers.

Upon entering the emporium, they were greeted with loud squawking. It smelled of owl droppings and the rustle of wings was everywhere. Above all the squawking and chirping, however, was a very odd sound. A weak screeching noise filled Harry's ears, and it reminded him all too much of a crying baby. He immediately sought out the source of the noise, Ginny trailing behind him.

It was a young owl that had been making the noise. It hadn't fully molted yet, giving it the odd appearance of being half pygmy puff.

"I wouldn't take that one if I was you," said a gruff voice in Harry's ear. He nearly jumped with fright, but caught sight of Ginny, who was silently laughing and gave the old man a weak smile.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Just flew in three days ago. He's a spotted owl, not supposed to be over here. He'd've had to fly all the way from North America, and he's not much more than a chick. I'd say he's about a month old, maybe five weeks. Left wing got pretty mangled, it's a wonder he survived. If you do want him, I'd say wait a week. Needs to make a full recovery first. He can't even fly."

"I think I'd like to take him right now," said Harry, though a little unsure.

"Has to have an ointment rubbed on his wing every twelve hours."

"I can do that." Harry wasn't at all worried about having to take extra care of the owl. Hedwig had, after all, sustained injuries just as bad. _Hedwig._ Harry tried to push the feelings of betrayal back down. _Hedwig wouldn't care if he got another owl,_ he told himself. _Hedwig had only been annoyed by Pigwidgeon, had never disliked him outright._

"Are you sure you want him?"

"Yes," said Harry, forcing confidence into his voice.

"He'll grow to be about one and a half pounds, so you'll want this cage…" he rummaged through the shelves and pulled out a brass cage, significantly smaller than the one Harry had for Hedwig. "He still needs baby food, so this will do." He handed Harry a large bag of owl food. "No treats until he's three months old," he warned Harry.

The took the small owl out of its crate, stuck it in the cage, and handed it to Harry.

"Fifteen Galleons," the man said, now moving to the counter.

Harry handed over the gold while Ginny took the bag of food out of his hands, which were quite full with the cage. Lastly, the man tossed Harry a bottle of ointment.

Harry and Ginny exited the dimly lit shop, blinking through the sun. "What should I name him?" Harry mused, studying the owl's movements closely. It opened its beak in what might have been called a yawn and tucked its head under its uninjured wing. "What do you think, Ginny? Oh, wait, you'll probably try to name him Hippo."

"Maybe," said Ginny, with a laugh. "I didn't think of that one, though. What about Eri?"

As if on cue, the owl, presumably asleep, untucked his head and looked at Harry with large, unblinking eyes.

"He even recognizes it!" said Ginny excitedly.

 _Eri did seem like a nice name,_ Harry thought. "Yeah, I like that. Eri. Well, I'll go get a broom. If you want to wait on a bench, you don't have to come with me."

"I'll wait outside with Eri," Ginny agreed, and sat down on the bench nearest Quality Quidditch Supplies.

The store was truly magnificent in Harry's eyes. The walls were lined with brooms for sale, magically suspended in midair. The shelves were filled with cleaning kits, Quaffles, Keeper's gear, and books. Clothing racks held shirts advertising teams, some of them Harry had never heard of before. The brightest color by far was that of the Chudley Cannons. The other teams seemed to have chose less neon colors, and the bright orange stuck out like a sore thumb.

Harry wandered the shop, trying to decide if he should get a Firebolt. A Nimbus 2005 would be good enough. But then again, the price of the original Firebolt had gone down: the amount of time it had been out, as well as all the new variations and additions had taken down the price a hundred Galleons.

Eventually deciding to buy the original, he took the broom from its place on the wall and approached the counter. The woman at the checkstand raised her eyebrows, but did not confront him about his fame (for which he was grateful). He Summoned the Galleons from the bag and placed them on the counter. The woman took the money, and wrapped the broom in brown paper.

"Have a nice day," she said dully, as Harry turned and left the shop.

Ginny sprang off the bench, tucking the owl food under one arm and dangling Eri in his cage on her other. Harry shrunk the new broom like Ginny had hers, stuffed it into his pocket, and took the cage from her.

"Why don't we go take Eri back to Grimmauld Place and then go to the Quidditch Pitch?" he offered.

"Let's eat something at the Leaky Cauldron, too."

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After putting Eri in Harry's bedroom, he had Apparated them to Muggle London, near the entrance to the Ministry.

"Where is the Pitch?" Ginny asked him.

"Just over here." They walked past the Ministry entrance and turned a corner. Here, Harry led Ginny through a nearly empty parking lot and into what appeared to be an ice skating rink. Instead of continuing straight into the frigid room the rent ice skates, however, he took a sharp left through a door.

They were met with stairs leading downwards. The space was tight, and Harry and Ginny had to let go of one another's hands and walk single file, wands lit. The slope continued downward for what seemed like ages, then leveled into a hallway deep underground.

"It's so cold," Ginny whispered, shuddering.

"We're almost there," Harry told her. He had never been to the Pitch himself, but had heard about it. It was supposed to be the best public Pitch in the country.

At long last, they came out of the tunnel and into the locker rooms. Stepping onto the Pitch from there, they were greeted with bright sunlight, and a sky too high to be underground. Only two other people were at the Pitch: a man and child, who did not notice the new arrivals.

Harry found his broom and unshrunk it, bending down to unwrap it. Ginny unshrunk hers as well, giving Harry a chance to actually see what it was. The broom, evidently new, had a shiny handle of natural colored wood, upon which the word _Firebolt_ was emblazoned.

"You have a Firebolt?" asked her.

Ginny nodded. "I've only flown it a few times. It's going to make Chasing so much easier."

Harry did not know what to say. How had Ginny managed to buy the broom? It must have taken her years of saving money. And Harry had been able to afford it with little preamble. But she had the broom now, and surely that's what mattered.

"Fly a few laps?" Ginny asked.

"Of course," said Harry, ready to mount his broom. "Always a great way to warm up."

"So… first thing every practise?"

"Every practise."

They mounted and began their flight, still unnoticed by the man and his child. Harry flew as high as he could; The freedom of flight felt amazing after the year without it. Harry slowed and gazed around the Pitch. He knew it was coming before it came, the flashes of light crept in from the corners of his vision, the yells echoed, quietly at first in his ears. And then the broom turned into the sidecar of a motorbike, and his trunk and an owl cage were crushing his knees, the yells became louder, hexes seemed to be flying everywhere.

Harry swept into a dive much steeper than one he would normally take, landing with a small crash. He heard Ginny land close to him, heard her footsteps approaching, but he was still half-stuck in the terrifying moment when a curse flew at him but missed, hitting Hedwig instead.

"Harry, are you okay?" Ginny asked, almost tentative.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Glad that's over with. Shouldn't happen again."

"Are you sure? We could just go back to Diagon Alley… get some ice cream, I dunno."

"No, no. We can keep flying. I still need to teach you those moves."

"And how to be captain."

"That too."

And so it was that they spend the better of their afternoon, flying around the Pitch, diving, laughing, and flirting.

When at last they left the Pitch, Ginny came over to Grimmauld Place for a proper cup of tea, and proper snog, after which she reluctantly left, saying that she would like another date soon. Harry, in response, suggested they go out to dinner on Friday. Ginny agreed wholeheartedly and left with smile, and what Harry could swear was a wink before disappearing once again into the flames.

It was an understatement to say that Harry was pleased with himself. As he rubbed the ointment on Eri's wings and fed him, he had a look of pure delight in his eyes, which had admittedly been a very scarce look for him to wear in the past years. He still bore the same smile as he ate his dinner, an hour later, and went to bed forgetting to read that day's letter, as he kept reliving the scenes with Ginny in his mind.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! I tried to get all fancy with naming Eri (pronounced "airy"), and abbreviated a Latin term for rescued. The only letters I plan on including at this point is 17th birthday, 18th birthday, and 18th Christmas. What do you think of the narration in the last few paragraphs? I've used that style before, but not with this type of story, more with one-shots. I won't be able to post the 17-22, so I might post on Thursday or Friday to make up for that.**

 **Gimme'SS, thank you for your review. Cassandra30, I agree. Especially Harry knowing the Severus and Lily had been friends. It would have changed his view of the professor a lot. Reviews are appreciated, and thank you for reading!**


	21. Seventeen

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

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Harry made up for his forgotten letter by reading two letters on Tuesday, and by Thursday was quite looking forward to reading his seventeenth birthday letter.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Happy Birthday!_ _ **You're of age!**_ _One more year of Hogwarts._ _ **The most stressful year. I think schoolwork alone would have had me half-dead.**_ _The N.E.W.T.s are fine._ _ **Says the girl who came out at the top of the class.**_ _Just as long as you've got the right classes. If I hadn't dropped Arithmancy, I would've had to spend all my time studying. Now, Harry, I'm not saying to drop the subjects you're not the best at, or don't like, but if it's not necessary for the career you're pursuing - I'd say get one or two more N.E.W.T.s than required._ _ **Two more N.E.W.T.s than required!?**_ _If you want to seem like a better candidate for the job. I didn't have to take Defense or Ancient Runes._ _ **Lily. Everyone took Defense. There was a war going on.**_ _Well, yes. But even then, it would have helped so many of us. Like Alice. She didn't need the N.E.W.T, but getting it-_ _ **helped her get the job. Yes, I know that. Maybe we should move on to the story, though?**_ _Ooh, yes. Which one this time? The time he crash-landed on Tiara's tail? I still don't know how you managed to land on her tail, but no other part of her._

 _ **Sirius got you a toy broom for your first birthday.**_ _You loved the thing. Flew all around the house with it._ _ **It wasn't the first time you landed on Tiara.**_ _But it was the funniest._ _ **You'd already spent plenty of time on the thing, and we needed to get you down.**_ _You, of course, didn't want to._ _ **And what seems logical to a baby in that position?**_ _Fly as fast as possible all around the room._ _ **I was trying to catch you.**_ _Dad looked ridiculous._ _ **And then you landed on Tiara's tail.**_ _It was the loudest I've ever heard her screech._ _ **She ran into our bedroom and hid under the bed as quick as a curse flies.**_ _We had to Summon her out, and even then, she was still shaking._ _ **She was perfectly fine, of course. No broken bones or anything.**_

 _Have a nice year at Hogwarts, Harry. We love you._ _ **Don't leave any essays until the last minute.**_

 _Love,_

 _Mum_ _ **& Dad**_

At this point, Eri gave a squawk, and Harry turned to face his owl. In the past few days, he had almost completely molted (leaving feathers everywhere), and now looked less like a pygmy puff and more like he had been given a bad haircut. The spots really were showing, and Harry could see how perfect it would be for camouflage in a forest. He couldn't fly yet, but had stopped acting as though his was in constant pain.

Harry looked back at the letter. His parents had thought he would have a normal life. That he would have gone back to Hogwarts for his seventh year, not that he would spend his time in a tent, hiding from the Ministry and hunting Horcruxes. But Harry's life had never been normal. From the moment the prophecy was made, Harry was doomed with craziest, most ab-normal life anyone could think of. And it was true, he'd skipped his last year at Hogwarts to hunt for Horcruxes, he'd defeated Quirelle and the Basilisk, but in the end, how different was he from anyone else his age? Very, very, different.

Harry placed the letter back into its envelope and and gently set it atop the growing pile of read letters. He'd saved the parchment they'd been wrapped in, and that was now where the stack of letters he'd finished were. Harry glanced back at the three letters he'd yet to read. Only three letters left. Harry wished they'd written more, that his parents had hidden more letters somewhere.

But now was not the time to search. He had his first Auror meeting today. They weren't starting the actual training yet, just meeting with everyone and finding out who their mentors would be, and when and where the first session would be.

"Which one was that?" Sirius asked, painted face coming into view.

"I seemed to have used the toy broom you got me to land on Tiara's tail." Sirius roared with laughter.

"Oh, good, I never liked her."

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 **Thank you for reading! I'm sorry this is such a short chapter, but it's still longer than chapter 1. Cassandra30, thank you for reviewing. I'm glad you like Eri. delia, I agree that many people write her as very manipulative. I will be explaining the broom later. Desires of Autumn Leaves, thank you for the positive feedback. Sirius will be making appearances in most of the chapters to come. Please review!**


	22. Feathers

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

* * *

Harry thought his date with Ginny on Friday had gone well. Not as good as it could have been, but good enough. They did, however, come to the conclusion that dinner dates were rather boring, and they'd much rather just go down to the Quidditch Pitch or wander through Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, or, if they wanted to go less noticed by _Witch Weekly_ , take walks through Muggle London.

Waking up on Saturday, Harry had lost no time in reading his next letter. What might his parents say to him after he had finished Hogwarts? And what about the baby story?

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Happy Birthday!_ _ **Happy Birthday!**_ _You've finished Hogwarts. I have no idea what job you're trying to get, but good luck!_ _ **I really hope the war has stopped. If not, stay as safe as you can.**_ _We don't really have much to say, so let's just tell the story._ _ **I better tell this one.**_

 _ **This happened before we went into hiding, and shortly after you started accidental magic. Sirius, Remus, and Peter had come for dinner. You were still taking your nap, but would be waking up soon anyway, so Lily went to go get you.**_ _You were not still asleep. You were lying awake in your bed, giggling at absolutely nothing. And as I bent down to pick you up - pop, my hair got turned into feathers._ _ **She looked ridiculous.**_ _I looked like a bird._ _ **Sirius thought it was the funniest thing.**_ _He was being extremely annoying about it._

 _I had to stay like that for two days, because - surprise! - most people choose not to Transfigure hair into feathers._ _ **We actually had to owl Professor McGonagall.**_ _I would have loved to see the look on her face when she read that one._

 _ **Good luck in the outside world!**_

 _Love, Mum_ _ **& Dad**_

There was a p.s. written, but the ink had been smeared, and Harry couldn't quite make it out. _Dih goo find if yst?_ Or perhaps, _Dld qou timb lt gat?_ Either way, Harry couldn't make out any words, and the p.s.'s of earlier letters hadn't been important, just added for a bit of fun.

Harry reread bits of the letter, laughing. He finally closed it back up into its envelope and set it in the pile of read letters some time later. He glanced back at the unread pile. There was only one left. He would have to read that one tomorrow.

Harry picked up the envelope, turning it over in his hands. He read the date. _December 25, 1998._ He paused. December 25, 1998 hadn't happened yet. He had one last chance to read the letter when his parents had meant him to read it. A chance to follow through with the letters. True, it would mean waiting, and he wasn't sure if he could do that, but he would at least try. Maybe hide the letter in some books so he had to think when he was getting it. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea.

"What do you think, Eri?"

The owl hooted in excitement. He'd started flying yesterday, though was quite wobbly, much like a baby learning to walk.

"Want to help me hide it?"

He hooted again. Harry took this for a yes, and opened the cage. Eri hopped onto Harry's shoulder with a flap of his good wing, and settled into a peaceful pose. He was much lighter than Hedwig, and would only grow a little bit more before reaching adulthood. He was almost finished molting, for which Harry was grateful, as it meant he would soon stop finding fluffy down feathers everywhere.

Harry picked one of the light tan feathers out of his hair, sighing. At least he didn't have a full head of feathers.

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"I just don't think they could have possibly known," said Hermione. Their lunch at the Leaky Cauldron had once again moved to the topic of "How could Lily and James have known to write the letters?"

"Hermione, they obviously knew that I'd be able to survive, and I think Lucy has something to do with that," Harry argued.

"I agree. But it's very unlikely that Dumbledore ever tols them 'Oh, and by the way, if one of you _dies_ for Harry he'll live.' Dumbledore didn't like to tell people things."

"Well, maybe he accidentally let it slip in conversation."

"And how exactly-"

"How's your owl doing?" asked Ron, changing the subject. He'd been trying to since Hermione brought this up, and had finally reverted to less subtle tactics.

"Eri's fine. He's started relearning to fly, and then it won't be long before he can send letters," said Harry, glad of the change.

"Isn't he still molting?" asked Hermione.

"He's almost finished."

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 **Thank you for reading! I'm sorry for the wait, I've been on a family trip, and finding time to write is hard. ragsweas, Cassandra30, Desires of Autumn Leaves, and Gime'SS, thanks for the reviews. delia, this chapter should have made it clear that the last two letters will follow the Christmas/birthday pattern. and gabrieljuarezl, I'm glad you're enjoying my story.**

 **The next chapter should be a long one, so if it takes me a while to write, that's why. We've got two more chapters to go, for those of you wondering. Thanks for reading, and please review!**


	23. Less Than Perfect

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling, not me.**

 **2nd Disclaimer: I have tried to make this with as little cliche as possible, but it's Christmas, so everything's cliche.**

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"You're taking me with you, right? And Andromeda and Teddy are coming? I can't believe you weren't able to go see Hermione and Ginny for their Hogsmeade trip. And that you couldn't go over to the Burrow until today. And you and Ginny are dating, so-"

"Will you be quiet!? You've been following me around all morning like a puppy that just discovered an open bag of biscuits!"

"Well, I'm technically a dog…"

"Sirius!"

"What?"

"If you want to come, you should consider being quiet."

"Okay."

"You are the exact opposite of your name," Harry mumbled. Sirius laughed. "What is it now?"

"Lily used to say that."

Harry sighed as he watched his tea steep. Sirius had taken Christmas as an excuse to be extremely annoying, and Harry was done with it. He had to be at the Burrow by 9:30, and still had to get all this glitter off his robes. And bed. And carpet. And hair. And pretty much his entire room. The glitter in and of itself was not good, but the message it carried was. It had exploded out of a present from George, and though Harry had yet to find the actual gift, he could assume it meant that George was doing much better.

As Ginny had predicted, George returned to the shop before Hogwarts started, but had stopped inventing things. And as far as Harry was concerned, he'd never seen anything from either of the twins explode with glitter before, so that must mean he'd invented something.

Sirius, who had been quiet enough, was moved into a small frame and stuffed into Harry's pocket along with his shrunken broomstick which he was almost certain he would need it. The Weasleys did like Quidditch.

"The Burrow!" he shouted, throwing the Floo into his fireplace.

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Ginny and Ron were sitting at the table playing chess, and Molly was cooking in the kitchen. Harry took Sirius out of his pocket and set him on the table, propped up against an unlit candle.

"Hi Harry," said Ron. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas!"

"George is outside doing Merlin knows what. Hermione's not coming for awhile, but she'll probably be over by eleven."

"Aren't her parents coming too?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"Yes," said Ron. His expression had immediately changed into something unrecognizable, either as embarrassment, nervousness, or overall confusion. Behind him, Ginny had burst into silent fits of giggles. She had clearly noticed the change and thought it was hilarious. Either that, or it had sparked some memory of a funny conversation.

"Ron, could you go find George? I think he stopped degnoming the garden already," Mr. Weasley said.

Ron glanced back at Ginny, who was recovering from her laughter, and Harry, who shrugged.

"Alright," he said, and stood up to leave.

"Hi Harry," said Ginny, standing up and hugging him. "Merry Christmas. Awesome Quidditch set."

Harry grinned. As soon as he'd seen the practice set at Quality Quidditch Supplies, he'd known it would be the perfect gift.

"Thanks for the…" Harry paused. He honestly had no clue what to call his gift from Ginny. It was a small, blue-ish silver stag that pranced through the air with the fluid movements of a Patronus. Harry had spent about five minutes just watching it in the palm of his hand before setting it down on the dresser top, where it trotted circles around a book.

"I don't know what it's called either," Ginny admitted, shaking her head. "But I thought you'd like it."

"You thought right." There was silence for a minute, but not necessarily the uncomfortable kind. Mrs. Weasley had made the mistake of moving Sirius into the kitchen, and he could now be heard chattering non-stop.

"Wanna sit down?"

"Sure."

They sat next to each other, a little farther away than Harry would have liked. Ginny was looking at Harry in an odd sort of way, with an expression Harry was sure only girls could achieve.

"You've got glitter in your hair," Ginny told him, and leaned forward to try to pick it out.

Harry laughed. "It's never going to come out."

"You're probably right," Ginny agreed, retreating. She oddly disappointed. "It's from George, isn't it?"

"You got one too?"

"I think everyone did. Chocolate toilet seats. I bet he'll start selling to Honeydukes now."

"I don't know," said Harry. "I'm a little scared to eat it."

"That's probably for the best."

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"Hermione'll be here soon!" Ginny alerted Ron and Harry, who were playing chess. Ron got so startled he knocked over his pawn, which stood back up grumbling.

"We don't have to finish," Harry assured him. "You're going to win anyway."

"Thanks," he said hurriedly, standing up and knocking more of the pieces to the ground.

Harry sighed and bent down to pick them up. He kind of felt bad for Ron, who didn't know Hermione's parents at all. Because Harry already knew the Weasleys, it was less of a I-don't-know-you-and-therefore-don't-trust-you scenario, but more of a I-will-send-subtle-hints-that-you-will-die-if-you-hurt-her scenario.

Hermione rushed in from the Floo, parents stepping precariously out behind her.

"Merry Christmas!" she said cheerily, brushing her frizzy hair out of her face. "Hi Teddy!" she added, and lifted the squirming baby from Andromeda's arms. "Mum, Dad this is Teddy. Remus and Tonks were his parents, and this is his grandmum, Andromeda…" She rushed through the rest of the introductions so fast that Harry was half-expecting her to pass out from lack of oxygen.

"And this is Ron, my boyfriend," she finished triumphantly. Ron seemed to shrink as she said this, like a spring that had been stretched and allowed to bounce back unexpectedly. Hermione's dad sent Ron the evil eye, and Harry was surprised Ron didn't perform a Disillusionment Charm on himself. Hermione's mum didn't seem at all surprised - well, of course Hermione would have told her parents who she was dating - but she looked like she had known they were dating for years. Harry wondered exactly what Hermione had told her about Hogwarts. They must have a good relationship.

"And that'll be Percy," said Mr. Weasley as the doorbell rang.

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The Weasleys, it turned out, had not managed to get Hermione her present yet, and shortly after she arrived, they decided to give it to her.

"Sorry we couldn't get it to your house," George apologized. "We couldn't figure out how to get it there."

"And we wanted to see the look on your face when you open it," Ginny added. "Mostly that."

"Ickle Ronniekins wants to kiss his girlfriend," George teased.

Ron responded with his traditional "Shut up" and red ears. Ginny sent wide eyes Harry's way. First the glitter, and now he's calling Ron "Ickle Ronniekins" again? Something was up. Presumably, it was something good. Which inevitably meant it was also something bad. It depended on if you were on the receiving end or not.

"Sorry, Mr. Granger," Percy said in lieu of George's teasing.

"It's from all of us," Ginny said. "Bill and Charlie included. But it was Ron's idea. Well, mostly his. You should just be glad he convinced George not to booby trap it with the entire joke shop."

"Stop with all the preamble!" Sirius shouted. "Just have her open the bloody present! Oh, wait. Teddy's here. Just have her open the present, then!"

Mrs. Granger looked at Sirius fearfully. It must be her first encounter with a talking portrait, then. Harry would not recommend having Sirius as a first encounter with a talking portrait.

"Here it is," said Percy, handing a suspiciously long, slightly triangular package to Hermione.

She opened it carefully, not fully convinced it was pure of pranks. It was. Relieved, she it the rest of the way more enthusiastically. It was a broom. A Nimbus 2004, or so claimed the gleaming letters on the handle. It was, Harry remembered, the perfect training broom, at least according to _Which Broomstick?_

"A broom?" exclaimed Hermione. "I haven't ridden one since fourth year! And a Nimbus 2004?"

"Better than Malfoy's," Ron said with a smirk.

"Oh, eat slugs," she said dismissively, turning the broom over in her hands, but she couldn't hide the laughter on her face.

"Oi! That's not fair! You know my wand was broken."

Mr. and Mrs. Granger watched this with utmost interest. They clearly could not understand why their daughter would be dating Ron. Harry rolled his eyes. Why in the world had he ever thought Ron and Hermione dating would stop their bickering? Harry was almost certain that it had made it worse for him to bear. Now, not only did they bicker, but they did so flirtatiously. Harry found it annoying.

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"Food!" Mrs. Weasley called over the loud din of several games of chess, Exploding Snap, and Hermione shrieking at finding a long, flesh colored string dangling between her and Ron. The noise stopped, and everyone hurried to the magically expanded table.

Harry grinned as he sat down between Ron and Percy, Ginny across from him. Hermione was next to Ginny, and she and Harry shared a significant look. This was the exact opposite of their last Christmas. Mr. Weasley, Mr. Granger, and Sirius had carried their conversation about Muggle motorbikes to the table, and Mrs. Weasley and Andromeda seemed to have become fast friends with Mrs. Granger. George was nowhere to be seen.

"And where are Charlie and Bill?" Andromeda was asking, spooning yams into Teddy's mouth.

"Bill and Fleur went to the Delacour's, and Charlie had to work shifts all yesterday and just couldn't make it today."

"That's not the real reason he's gone," whispered Ginny. "Mum just doesn't want to admit it. Charlie's not here 'cause- 'cause, you know…"

Because they wouldn't all be here. Harry knew. George returned to the table then, looking too satisfied with himself for Harry not to assume that someone was in danger of a trip to St. Mungo's.

Near the end of the meal, a solitary snowball shot through the air and landed on Ginny with a _spalt_. Silence followed the spalt. Then,

"WHO DID THAT?" Ginny exploded.

"Self-throwing snowballs," George explained in tiny voice reserved for explaining what he had done to his mother. He glanced back to the door, beside which set a bucket, filled with said snowballs.

"I'm gonna hex you into the stomach of whatever dragon Charlie's stuck with!" Ginny screamed, jumping up from the table and grabbing her wand. George made a beeline for the door, picking up a bucket of snowballs on his way out. Ginny ran after him, casting a Warming Charm over herself.

"Well?" Hermione asked Harry after several long moments of silence, during which Ginny could be heard screaming hexes. "What are we waiting for? Let's go!"

Harry shrugged, and stood up to follow her outside. Ron did too, but Hermione shook her head.

"You'll want to stay here," she said, with a less than reassuring pat on his shoulder. Her dad had just moved into the seat across Ron, who looked terrified.

"He'll be fine," Hermione assured Harry, as she charmed herself into winter clothes. Harry cast a Warming Charm like Ginny had done, and they walked outside the open door.

The snow was a little too cold and icy, not as fluffy as it had been when it had fallen, and the cold December sun made it nearly impossible to look at for the glare. It'd been tramped through before, deflated, and looking a little like a sad hot-air balloon. All together, less than perfect, but good enough, or so Harry hoped. Ginny and George were pelting each other with hard, icy snowballs, and no matter how much Harry wanted to join, he wasn't sure if it was the best idea. But Hermione already had, and so Harry did too.

Harry soon learned that Warming Charms do not melt snowballs on direct contact, but melt them slowly, so that freezing-cold water trickled down from where he had been hit for an uncomfortable amount of time. He was starting to wish he knew Hermione's charm.

Ron came outside then, holding Hermione's broom. "Come on, 'Mione!" he called. "We need to teach you how to fly this thing!"

"I know how to fly," she grumbled. "I'm just awful at it, and haven't tried in years!"

"Therefore, you need to be taught," concluded George, taking the broom from Ron and handing it to Hermione. "I'm assuming you know how to mount?"

"Yes," said Hermione, swinging her leg over the handle. "You'd have to be insanely stupid to not know how to sit on a broom."

"Hold on," said Ginny suddenly. She disappeared around a corner and returned with four brooms. She handed one to Ron, one to George, and offered one to Harry.

"I actually brought my own," Harry admitted rather awkwardly. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Of course you did," said Ginny, and went to return the broom to the shed.

While Harry unshrunk his broom, Hermione took off. The broom certainly was fast. It was clear that Hermione had not expected the broom to go this fast, and she hurried to level herself before she flew into the clouds. Ron, George, and Harry all mounted and took off after her. The air was crisp and clean, the cold sun penetrating through the cloudy sky, but still failing to warm them. Cold radiating from the snow below burned Harry's throat and lungs, but he didn't care. The thrill of flight pushed all other thoughts from his mind, and he swooped and swerved through the air.

All of this was interrupted, however, when a rather hard chunk of what Harry assumed to be the icy snow hit his shoulder.

"Gotcha!" Ginny called, speeding away. Harry dove for the ground, skimming the snow with his finger tips to collect his own snowball. He shot off after Ginny, hurling the snow at her.

"And here I thought you liked me," she pouted.

"Not when you're pelting me with ice," he remarked, and in the time he was doing so, she threw a snowball back at him, flying away once more. For another ten minutes, Harry, Ginny, George, Ron, and Hermione flew through the cold air, attacking one another with the occasionally painful snow. They soon learned to fly close to the ground, so as to make creating the snowballs easier, and the throwing of them thus more effective.

Ginny, Harry noticed, somehow managed to look graceful despite the snow splattered on her face and robes. She threw the snowballs with a Chaser's skill, and dodged the one thrown at her like Bludgers. Hermione was pelting Harry with snow when he remembered what he'd learned from the letters.

"Accio," he said, twisting his wrist, wand pointed at the snow. With the perfect sphere floating at the tip of his wand, he reared back and- _wham_ hit Hermione with a perfect shot to the arm.

"Hey!" she yelled. "That's cheating!"

"No more than _Confundus!_ "

"Ooh, Ron would love to hear that story," Ginny cooed, flying in a low loop. She winked at Harry. She must have noticed that too. Interesting. Hermione's face, already turned pink by the cold, turned pinker.

"Please don't," she said. "No more wands, though. Agreed?"

Harry sighed. "Agreed." It was still good to know the trick worked.

"Can we call a truce?" Ron asked, breaking free of George and flying toward the rest. "I've got so much snow down my back I actually think I might freeze." Harry landed in a circle with the others, panting slightly with the excursion and very much wishing for a better charm. Hermione muttered drying and warming charms under her breath for each of them in turn, and Harry sent her a silent thank you as he felt the last of the cold water leave his skin and his temperature rise.

Harry stared down at the snow, contemplating. They all had their brooms, and he was sure hoops could be Conjured, so why not play Quidditch?

"I've got an idea," he said slowly. "Accio." Again, he directed his wand to the snow. But instead of the intention of a snowball, he forced another thought into his mind. A few seconds more of concentration, and it was SnowQauffle.

"We don't have an even number," Ron pointed out.

"It's alright, I won't play," said Hermione, stepping back. "I'm awful at it."

"No, you should stay," said Ron. "You're not as bad as you think. We'll have to find someone else. Maybe one of the gnomes…"

"I'll play." Everyone turned to look at the door, wherefrom the voice had issued. It was Percy. Holding his broom. George feigned fainting.

"Okay," said Ginny brightly. "Harry, Percy, and I can be on one team, you guys on the other."

"Sure," said Ron, shrugging.

George stood back up out of the snow. "Sounds good to me." Hermione wordlessly followed the others to strategize.

Percy automatically turned to Harry for a plan, but was looking at Ginny. "You decide. You've been Captaining all year, which is more than I can say."

"Oh," she said, a little off-guard. "Well… I guess I can be Keeper, and you two can be Chasers. Oh, wait, that's an awful idea. Percy should be Keeper, he's played Keeper tons of times. Harry, we just need to catch Ron when he least expects it. That means long-distance throws. You can do that?"

"Of course," said Harry, nodding. Brilliant girl had the perfect plan already. He was almost certain Gryffindor was halfway to winning the Quidditch Cup by now.

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 **Thank you for reading! Good news (at least I think it's good)! This isn't the entire plot I had planned for this chapter, meaning that we _now_ have two chapters left. Gime'SS, Cassandra30, ragsweas, delia, thank you for your reviews! This is now the longest chapter, at 2852 words. Once again, thank you for reading, and please review!**


	24. PS

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine.**

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Harry left the Burrow shortly after Hermione did, taking Sirius with him. Andromeda and Teddy were the first to leave, as Teddy had to sleep, and both Percy and George were staying the night at the Burrow. Harry was tired, and it was a little late, but he had one more thing to do today. There was one letter left.

He opened it slowly, savoring the last time he would break the seal of one of the letters. He hadn't realised how different the parchment was from what he was used to, hadn't realised just what seventeen years of waiting could do to the delicate paper. The ink, hidden from sunlight all these years looked as though it had only dried moments ago, even though the quill that wrote the words was long forgotten.

"The last letter?" Sirius asked him, rehung on the wall. His tone was not joking, there was no trace of laughter in his words. He did understand what it was like, to have the last pieces of someone you loved, to ruin the not-knowing what was to come, Harry realised.

"Yeah. I almost don't want to read it." He didn't want to. He wanted to wait, to keep the unopened memories of his parents forever.

"But if you don't open it now, then who knows when you will? You can't read it never."

And so Harry unfolded the parchment and ran his eyes over the ink marks, eagerly taking in his parents' sweet words.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Merry Christmas!_ _ **This is the last letter.**_ _We would keep writing them, but we need to get them to Sirius soon._ _ **Otherwise, you'll never be reading these.**_ _And if you aren't reading these, we'd rather the reason be we aren't dead._ _ **Remind me again how it works? The whole Voldemort-finds-us-and-we-die-but-Harry-lives thing?**_ _We can hide him. Anyway, James, didn't you say you had a story to tell? Even though it's a Christmas letter… okay, go for it._ _ **Well, it's not strictly a Harry baby story. I was thinking of a when-we-were-at-Hogwarts story.**_ _Am I going to regret letting you tell this?_ _ **Possibly.**_

 _ **During our seventh year, we had a lot of winter snow, and as I'm sure you know, Sirius loves playing in the snow.**_ _In dog form._ _ **So one morning, Peter, Sirius, Remus, and I planned to go play in the snow.**_ _This one? Really? It's a little underwhelming._ _ **You only say that 'cause you didn't see the look on your own face. Anyway, Lily woke up earlier than we expected, and requested to join us. Of course, we couldn't say no, and just figured we'd have to find some other time to let Sirius chase snowballs or whatever.**_ _I didn't know Sirius had a dog form at the time._ _ **I think Sirius was under the impression I'd already told you about the Animagus thing, because the idiot transformed in front you!**_ _Yes. It was very frightening._ _ **Needless to say, she learned why we have our nicknames shortly thereafter.**_

 _Alright, alright. We need to finish this letter now. This ink bottle's almost empty._ _ **It is?**_ _Yes._ _ **Isn't that the third bottle for just these letters?**_ _Including all the ones we smeared, yes, it is._ _ **Okay, then. Maybe we could do a few more letters? Just one more? Please?**_ _You sound like a toddler. And besides, didn't you think these letters were "somewhat pointless" and that "Harry would never read them so why would they matter?"_ _ **That was before we started writing them. It's fun to retell all these stories. Can you do some more?**_ _We have to give them to Sirius tomorrow. Dumbledore said that the longer we're in hiding, the more vulnerable we become. We're only supposed to be sending outgoing letters right now. Having Sirius come to get this package is risky enough, if we wait another week, someone might find him and try to follow him here, and then they'll know we're near Godric's Hallow, and-_ _ **Lily. You're worrying too much. We'll give these to Sirius tomorrow. We don't have to write anymore, it's okay.**_

 _ **We really are about to run out of ink.**_ _Merry Christmas, Harry!_ _ **We love you!**_

 _Love,_

 _Mum_ _ **& Dad**_

Harry reread the letter several times, not wanting to believe it was the last one. It couldn't be the last one. But there it was, written on the parchment. All in the writing he now recognised as his father's. If only there were more letters.

"Master," said a voice behind him. Harry flinched. Who the-

"Oh," he said lamely. "Hi, Kreacher."

"The healers is saying that Lucy is having her memory back, sir."

"She does? Kreacher, bring her here. Now." Lucy had seen Snape. Maybe Lucy knew something. Lucy must know something. Lucy did have his mother's scarf, after all.

"Yes, sir." The elf left with a pop, returning moments later with the second elf.

"Harry Potter, sir. I is having my memory back. Thank you, sir."

"Your welcome. Can you tell me who Obliviated you?" The elf shook her head sadly. "What? You can't remember? But I sent you to St. Mungo's, they gave you your memory back!" The had been wrong. Lucy didn't have her memory back. She couldn't remember who Obliviated her, and that was all that Harry cared about anyway.

"Harry," said Sirius, clearly sensing his anger with the healers. "Maybe she doesn't know the person's name." Of course. How could Harry expect her to know her Obliviater's name? But she would know what they looked like.

"Describe what they looked like, then," Harry said, trying to keep his voice calm. He was no longer angry at the healers, but at himself.

"I is by Dumbledore's office, sir, and is about to deliver tea, sir, and there is a woman. She is listening, sir, and is looking frightened. She is holding something, sir. I is not knowing what it is, but it is like silver fabric, sir. And there is talking from his office, and the woman is muttering, and then she is casting the spell at me, sir."

"Yes, but what did she look like?" Harry didn't even know why he asked. He already knew who it was. There was only one time he had ever seen anything that looked like silver fabric, and it was hidden in his closet, wrapped around a small box that couldn't be seen.

"She is having red hair, and… and green eyes, I is thinking. Yes, I is knowing that now."

"Lucy, Kreacher, go back to Hogwarts." Harry instructed them, his mind already a whirlwind of activity.

So it had been Lily. Lily, who had freed and Obliviated the elf. But why? Ron had said… if an elf knew something. Lily had been talking to herself, and Dumbledore seemed to be talking to someone. Perhaps Lucy had heard part of the planning for his parent's to go into hiding. But there must be something more than that. Otherwise, wouldn't Lily have told Lucy to stay silent about it. Or Dumbledore? Harry found he was pacing his room, faster and faster, circles traced in the carpet by his feet. What if… what if the answer was hidden in the letters?

He snatched up the letters, falling out of the brown paper they'd come wrapped in. He opened each letter, rereading some, trying to find a message in between the lines. He even checked in the envelopes, there could be a spare piece of parchment in one. It wasn't until he got to the eighteenth birthday one he found a clue.

 _P. S. Dld qou timb it gat?_

 _Dih goo find if yst?_

 _Did gou fimb it gef?_

 _Bid yoo find it yef?_

 _Did you find it yet?_

 _Did you find it yet?_

 _Did you find it yet?_

Did he find _what_ yet? Whatever it was he was supposed to find, it wasn't in any of the envelopes. There was only one place left to look. The brown paper wrapping. He carefully inspected each and every crease, unfolding the flaps grown still with time, and as he flipped it over, almost out of hope for his search, he saw it. Out of the wrapping fell a smaller, slightly dirty, envelope.

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 **Thank you all for reading! Don't you just love cliff hangers? Cassandra30 and Gime'SS, thanks for the reviews! Desires of Autumn Leaves, it's good to know someone thinks I'm writing Sirius well. I really like writing him (and plan on including him in future stories). Again, thank you for reading, and please review!**


	25. The Final Letter

**Disclaimer: It's been 25 chapters, and these characters still aren't mine.**

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 _Dear Harry,_

 _Are you reading this? Probably not. But if you are, Hi. I don't know when - or if - you'll find this, but I thought you might be wondering why we wrote the letters in the first place. As you may have guessed from the letters, I was the one who came up with the idea. But why? Because I knew you would live. No one else really did, not as a fact, anyway. Professor Dumbledore thought it was a possibility. So did Professor McGonagall, I think. I should probably tell you how I found this out._

 _Just before we went into hiding, a few days before we changed Secret Keepers, I went to Hogwarts. We'd sorted out most of the details by then, but James wanted to give Dumbledore the Invisibility Cloak so we could be sure it wasn't destroyed or lost. Do you have it now? I hope you do. That thing is… unlike anything I've ever seen or read about. Anyway, James was staying back at the house with you, and I was at Hogwarts. It was late September, and starting to get cold out. Hagrid's pumpkins were starting to change from green to orange, the color flooding from their stems, seeping through the rest of the tough skin. Why am I including all these details? I think it makes the story seem real. To know that the world around me was just the same, even when I was planning on "disappearing off the face of the earth." I just started talking about a totally different topic, didn't I? I do that a lot._

 _I came when everyone was in the Great Hall for lunch, so I was able to get past without anyone noticing me. I planned on waiting by Dumbledore's office for him to come back, but he was already there, and talking to someone else. As I stood there - Merlin, it was so creepy - I swear someone was staring at me. I couldn't see anyone, of course, so I assumed they had their own cloak, albeit one that wouldn't last as long as James'._

 _Now, Harry, I have a habit of talking to myself. And because of this, I was muttering under my breath as I waited. And the day before, Sirius had suggested Peter as Secret Keeper. So I was muttering about who the Secret Keeper would be. Merlin, I was being stupid. And some house-elf walks up, holding a tea tray. She stood next to me silently, waiting. With nothing better to do, I decided to try and listen to what Dumbledore was saying. He was talking to McGonagall. They were talking about us going into hiding. Professor McGonagall really does care for her students, past, present, and future, which is what makes her such a good teacher. And being the person she is, she asked if there was any chance you would survive. Dumbledore, he didn't know what to say. That's the first time I've ever heard him at loss for words. Then slowly, carefully, he said this:_

" _I have no doubt that Voldemort will use the Killing Curse, Minerva. And the only thing I can think of that could possibly protect from that is love."_

 _The words were so quiet I could hardly hear her. "But what is love?" That's what McGonagall said. And it's Dumbledore's answer that made me make the decision._

" _There are many types of love. I don't know all of them now, and I never will. But I believe that strongest form of love that any one person could ever encounter is a mother's love."_

 _And what did I do as soon as I heard this? Start muttering to myself again. Then I realized that the house-elf had heard what I was saying. But Before I could do anything about the elf, McGonagall came out of the office. I rushed in at the same time as the elf, gave Dumbledore the Cloak and a rushed explanation, and hurried out. I stayed a while longer, waiting for the elf. As soon as she came, and Obliviated her. I had to make sure she didn't know who the Secret Keeper was. But oh, Harry. I only meant to erase the past ten minutes or so, but I erased her entire life! How could I muck up so bad? I feel awful. I gave her my scarf to free her, then told her to hide until Voldemort was defeated._

 _I didn't even wait to watch her leave the castle. Instead, I took off down the opposite end of the corridor she was headed, and took the long way down to the entrance hall. And I think someone was looking at me, again. I couldn't find them, but I didn't really care. Because you know what I just heard? I heard there was something more than a chance that you would live. And maybe, just maybe, if I was deliberate enough, I could plan your survival._

 _I haven't told James about this yet. I don't think I will. I wasn't supposed to hear it, let alone him. And he'll try to stop me. Not because he doesn't love you, Harry, because he loves both of us. He'll try to have me let him do all the hard work, whatever that may be. And, yes, I am more focused on saving you than James, but it's because you haven't even gotten the chance to live. At least James has gone through Hogwarts, graduated, joined the Order. And if, by some miracle, it's you and James reading these letters, instead of you and Sirius: I love you, James, I really do._

 _I don't know exactly what Dumbledore meant, and I don't know exactly what I'd have to do, but I do know one thing: I love you, Harry, and if that's all it takes to save you, then consider yourself saved._

 _Love (as if that weren't obvious enough),  
_ _Mum_

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 **Thank you for reading! This was the final chapter. sofiarose613, you've just read what's in the letter. dianaanne, it's good to know someone out there finds my story intriguing. ragsweas, I finished this chapter 7 hrs after you reviewed... quick update delivered (for once).**

 **Now, who's up for some story stats? (You can leave now if you want to).**

 **Shortest chapter - chapter 6 - 603 words**

 **Longest chapter - chapter 24 - 3129 words**

 **Total words: ~29240**

 **Avg. words per chapter: 1170**

 **Once again, thank you to all those who have followed Harry's journey, reviewed, favorited, and followed.**

 **Goodbye for now,**

 **-rosebud100**


	26. What If?

**Wait, what just happened? Did this story just get a new chapter? But... it's finished.**

 **Finished or not, this story has a lot of "What If?" scenarios attached to it. And a rather open ending that may be in need of an epilogue. And a lot of weird ideas that ended up being jumbled into this story. So I have made the decision to start a new story, titled What If? to cover these questions. Chapters will range from the obvious "What if Harry got the letters on time?" to the humor-bound "What if Fred and George found the letters?"**

 **Enjoy this snippet of chapter one, then jump over to What If? (link wouldn't work, just visit my profile** **)** **to read the rest of it!**

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What If Harry Got His 15th Birthday Letter on Time?

Harry set the letter down carefully, nodding his head. "Okay," he said. "Okay." After exhaling, and rereading part of the letter, he got off the couch to find Sirius. It was his fifteenth birthday, and he'd just finished reading his letter. He still couldn't believe his mother had once been friends with Snape, the horrible potions teacher at Hogwarts.

"Sirius?" he called, waving the parchment.

"What is it?" Sirius asked, walking out of his room. When he wasn't at Hogwarts, Harry could be found living with Sirius in a small, two-bedroom apartment just outside of London. As long as he could remember, Harry had lived with his beloved godfather, expect for one torturous week a year when he was sent to his aunt and uncle. After begging a pleading, Sirius was granted a trial for his accusation of betraying Lily and James Potter, and was found innocent, and given guardianship of Harry. Dumbledore had not been pleased, but the offer of sending Harry to his relative's for one week every year had quickly appeased him.

"Why didn't you tell me about this before?"

"Tell you about what?" Sirius said, leaning over to read the letter. Harry slid his thumb over the bottom of the page, where the p.s. read _Tell him I said sorry._ "Ah… nasty slimeball. Can't see why Lily was ever friends with that one."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Well, it's not my story to tell."

"You were there."

"Why didn't you tell me Mum and Snape used to be friends?"

"Because they weren't when she died. Happy?"

"No." Harry pulled the letter back toward himself. He looked at the p.s. He would have to do something about that.


End file.
